


hold in, hold on

by argentoswan



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Big Brother Sokka (Avatar), Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sokka (Avatar) Needs a Hug, katara is 6 and she is the most adorable kid ever, like a lot, sokka's a really good brother, sokka's got trauma too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:34:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 55,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28396239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argentoswan/pseuds/argentoswan
Summary: Sokka's got his hands full raising his sister on his own and trying to scrape his way through college for a degree he desperately needs. He doesn't have time for cute boys, especially not irritating ones with scars who take theatre class way too seriously. Sokka doesn't have time for anything except for his sister and the future he's trying to build for her, and he's perfectly alright with that.As Iroh would say, however, life has a funny way of making time for itself.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 245
Kudos: 444





	1. oh my god you are fine

**Author's Note:**

> rated for language and mild sexual content. enjoy! :)

The music pounded in Sokka’s ears, its tempo keeping time with the multicolored lights strung along the walls of whatever basement he’d ended up in. Sokka could hardly hear the conversation happening amongst the circle of people gathered around him. He squinted through the near-darkness, focusing in on Haru’s lips to try and figure out what he was missing, but it was no use. Haru’s mustache swam in Sokka’s vision. Sokka lifted his cup, took another long sip of a juice to vodka ratio so unbalanced it made his stomach turn, and let his gaze wander again.

Sokka hadn’t been to a party in a very long time. He also hadn’t been this drunk in a very long time. He’d checked both of those things off his to-do list for the night already, and was rapidly losing interest in his surroundings. 

One of the guys standing next to Sokka grabbed his arm and shouted something that was lost in the music. Sokka blinked, tried to figure out how a not-drunk person would respond, and decided on smiling widely and nodding. 

The guy laughed, patted Sokka’s shoulder a little too hard, and turned back to Haru. 

Sokka drained the rest of his drink. He stepped away from the group he’d been standing with and walked away to look for a refill. 

The basement was crowded with enough college students to make a fire marshall weep. Most of them were gathered in the center of the room dancing to the music blasting from speakers. The hosts had set up a small table in the corner of the room with a massive cooler and stacks of empty cups, which Sokka set his sights on and pushed his way towards, murmuring sorrys that were lost to the music every time he accidentally bumped into one of the other dancing party-goers. 

When Sokka reached the table, he braced himself against the plastic cooler and slipped his empty cup under the nozzle. He leaned against the table as he poured himself more of whatever jungle juice concoction had been provided as the music pounded against his head and the floor pulsed under his feet.

When Sokka’s cup was full, he turned around and found himself abruptly nose-to-nose with another boy standing very close behind him. 

For a moment both of them were too startled to move. Sokka soaked in the yellow-gold eyes, bright in the dark basement, and the puckered red scar splashed across the left one.

“Sorry,” the stranger blurted out, and took a step out of Sokka’s space. 

“It’s fine,” Sokka said, still staring at the guy’s face. Despite the scar Sokka found himself immediately captivated, by the silky black hair tied back in a high bun, by the sharp cheekbones, by the way they lights played against his skin. 

Or maybe Sokka was just really drunk.

The guy was holding an empty cup. Sokka realized with a start that he must have been waiting in line for a drink, and stepped aside with a hurried, “Sorry.” 

The stranger ducked his head to hide an awkward grin. Sokka felt his stomach flip. He watched as the boy stepped up to the cooler and started to refill his own cup.

Sokka leaned his hip against the table and appraised his situation for a moment. He was at a party. He was _very_ drunk. There was a _very_ attractive boy in front of him, and Sokka was feeling more than a little bit reckless. 

When in Rome, right?

“Hey,” Sokka said, loud enough to be heard over the music. The boy looked up from his punch, fingers still poised on the plastic nozzle. 

“Yeah?” he shouted back. 

“Are you Google?” The boy’s brow furrowed, and Sokka followed it up with a grin and, “Cause you’re everything I’ve been searching for.”

It was amusing to watch the guy’s face shift from confusion, to realization, to embarrassment. Sokka could tell that his cheeks were red even in the dim lighting. 

“Cute,” he said, lips twitching into a smile he seemed to be fighting against.

“Huh,” Sokka said. “So I’m cute-” He pointed at the boy. “And _you’re_ pretty… I guess together we would be pretty cute then, right?” 

The boy ducked his head again. Sokka took another sip of his drink, letting the alcohol soothe over any stray nerves. It had been a long, long time since he’d let himself do something this impulsive without thinking it through first. He was just grateful that he wasn’t as rusty as he might have been sober.

“Have you got these written in a book somewhere?” the boy asked. He was grinning now. It lit his expression up, making him look young despite the intensity of the scar. 

“I come up with all of my own material.” Sokka raised his free hand in a three-finger salute. “Scout’s honor.”

“You’re a boy scout, now?” 

“I can be anything you want me to be, gorgeous,” Sokka said. He set his cup down on the table, noting the way the boy’s eyes fell to track his bicep muscles as Sokka stretched his arm. Thank god Suki had convinced him to wear a sleeveless shirt. 

Sokka leaned in closer, drawing the stranger’s eyes back up to his. He’d never seen a shade like that before, like he had molten gold trapped in them.

“Want to dance?” Sokka asked.

The stranger’s smile slowly grew again. He set his cup down on the table next to Sokka’s and said, “Absolutely.”

Sokka took the boy’s hand. His fingers were warm; Sokka hoped his weren’t clammy. He drew the boy towards the crowd, slipping in amongst the dancing people without taking his eyes off that tiny, promising grin. 

Sokka vaguely recognized the pop song playing over the speakers. He found a semi-clear part of the dance floor and drew the boy in close, keeping their fingers twined together. Sokka was taller than him, and had to tilt his chin ever so slightly down to maintain eye contact. 

The alcohol smoothed over any awkwardness they might have felt as they struck up an easy rhythm. Sokka let the music wash over him as he lost himself in the movements, in the pretty face shining at him in the dim lighting, in the press of a hot hand against his. 

Song after song passed as they matched each other’s movements perfectly, inching closer and closer together until their hips and elbows were knocking together. Sokka stepped back just enough to turn the boy in a spin that made him laugh out loud and then pulled him in close, looping his arms around his waist.

The boy leaned in close to say in Sokka’s ear, a smile in his voice, “Did they teach you how to dance in the boy scouts as well?”

“A scout never reveals his secrets,” said Sokka.

A group of squealing girls had pulled out their phones to record a guy trying to spin on his head a few feet away. Sokka thought he could see Haru out of the corner of his eye, still talking and laughing with the only group of people Sokka knew in this basement. The music had switched to something slower but just as obnoxiously upbeat.

Sokka saw and heard all of this as though they were in a separate dream from him. His attention was entirely focused on the stranger in front of him, who was staring up at him with wide, gold eyes. His lips were parted, his shoulders rising and falling as he caught his breath from the dancing. His arms had found their way to Sokka’s shoulders, draping themselves around his neck as he inched even closer.

When he leaned in to kiss Sokka, Sokka greeted him with enthusiasm. The stranger’s lips were warm and tasted of the same juice Sokka had been drinking all night. He kissed slowly at first, simply pressing his mouth to Sokka’s until he seemed to gain more confidence and tilted his head for a better angle. 

Sokka’s fingers curled against the boy’s waist, feeling the silky fabric of his shirt as he pressed ever closer. Sokka deepened the kiss enough to run his tongue along the boy’s lower lip, feeling the blood rush out of his brain when the boy made a soft sound in the back of his throat and tightened his arms around Sokka’s neck. 

It was as though this stranger was an electric current, lighting up every inch of Sokka’s body, parts that he hadn’t paid attention to in a very long time. His hips shifted against Sokka’s, rolling in a way that had Sokka’s breath catching in his throat, and the basement was suddenly far too public for the things Sokka wanted to do to the boy pressed against him. 

“Want to go upstairs?” he said against the boy’s mouth.

The stranger nodded, his breath hot against Sokka’s, his eyes sparkling with something like awe as Sokka took his hand again and pulled him through the crowd. This time he headed straight for the staircase he’d come down earlier that night, grabbing onto the railing with one hand and keeping a firm hold of the boy’s fingers with the other.

The staircase led up to a kitchen cluttered with empty bottles of alcohol and a few girls with heavy makeup that looked curiously at them as Sokka led the way out the back door. The backyard was dark, lit only by a flickering yellow light by the door. There were only a few groups of people out here, all huddled together and talking in low voices. They didn’t pay the two of them much mind as Sokka walked around the side of the house, turning a corner and pulling the boy into the shadowed darkness.

When they were out of sight Sokka pressed the boy back against the wall of the house. He stepped forward until their hips were flush together. It was too dark now for him to see the stranger’s face, but he could hear his heavy breathing and feel the way his fingers skimmed down Sokka’s arms to latch lightly onto his wrists.

Sokka leaned in again. Their noses brushed. “Is this alright?” he murmured, pressing his hips forward experimentally. 

The boy inhaled sharply, his fingers tightening. They were both hard, and when the boy shifted ever so slightly it sent a wave of warmth through Sokka’s hips. 

“Yes,” said the boy, and pressed his lips to Sokka’s once more. Sokka let his mouth fall open, losing himself in tongue and teeth and warmth. He caught the boy’s bottom lip between his own and earned another soft groan that had Sokka’s hips jerking in response.

Sokka pulled away and the boy’s head tipped back, giving Sokka space to press his mouth to his throat. Sokka sucked on the smooth skin there, drawing a moan from the stranger. As Sokka swooped lower to press his lips to the curve of his neck, to the space just above an exposed collarbone, he slipped his hand between them and tugged gently at the boy’s waistband. 

He was quick to assist Sokka. They fumbled together to unbutton his pants, to tug down the zipper. Sokka hooked his index finger into the band of the boy’s exposed boxers, teasing at the skin there as he kissed back up the boy’s throat, along his jaw, the corners of his mouth. Sokka recaptured the boy’s lips with his own as he slipped his hand into his boxers, breathing in the answering moan as his fingers wrapped around the boy’s length.

“Fuck,” the boy gasped as Sokka moved his hand. His fingers scrabbled against Sokka’s back, looking for purchase and finally finding it in Sokka’s hair, which he’d worn loose that night. Sokka twisted his wrist and the fingers in his hair tightened, pulling sharply and sending heat flooding through Sokka’s body.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Sokka said against the stranger’s mouth. He was still pumping his hand slowly, going quicker with every second. He could feel his own erection straining in his jeans, pressed against the boy’s thigh, and groaned when he shifted to feel friction there.

“Fuck,” Sokka said, slipping his free hand under the boy’s shirt, pressing his fingers against his bare side. The boy moaned again, hips twitching, pushing himself into Sokka’s grasp. “You make the prettiest sounds.” 

“I’m gonna,” the boy said, his words cut off by another sharp gasp. “I’m gonna-”

Sokka kissed him, hard and open-mouthed, and rolled his hips again and again in time with the movements of his hand on the other boy’s cock. A few more seconds of total bliss passed before the stranger shivered in Sokka’s grasp and moaned loudly. As warmth blossomed over Sokka’s fingers he felt his own pleasure peak, and tipped his head back to breathe in the cold night air. 

They rode out their climaxes together. Sokka’s skin was prickling, his head pounding with the aftermath of it all. He let go of the other boy, pulling his hand out of his pants. 

The boy’s head tipped forward, forehead pressing into the curve of Sokka’s neck. He was breathing heavily, and seemed to be just as worn out as Sokka felt.

“Wow,” he breathed. Sokka chuckled and wrapped one arm around the boy’s waist, supporting some of his weight as he recovered. 

“I take it I did good?” he said, mouth pressed against the boy’s hair. He smelled like cinnamon, warm and spicy.

The boy lifted his head. Sokka’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to make out the slant of his good eye and the discoloration around the other. Sokka had never seen a scar like that before. He wondered what could have caused it.

“Very good,” the stranger said. He leaned in to kiss him again, soft this time, just a brush of lips that sent new warmth flooding through Sokka.

While the boy readjusted his clothes, Sokka crouched down to wipe his hand off in the grass. When he stood back up the boy was watching him. Sokka couldn’t see the expression on his face.

“We should go back to the party,” he said. 

“Do you have someone waiting for you back there?” Sokka asked.

“No.”

“Good.” Sokka found his hand in the dark. “I’m going to keep you for myself tonight, if that’s alright with you.”

The boy drew in close and squeezed his fingers. They walked together around the side of the house and back to the lit yard. The same groups of drunk guests were standing there, none of them looking up as they re-emerged from the darkness.

They were at the top of the stairs leading to the back door when Sokka felt a buzzing in his pocket. He paused and reached for his phone, glancing at the caller id as the screen lit up.

“Shit,” he said, wincing when the boy turned an inquisitive look to him. “I’m so sorry. I need to take this.”

“That’s alright,” said the boy. He smiled, looking hopeful, and _fuck_ if he wasn’t the most attractive person Sokka had ever seen. Sokka was lucky he was allowed to stand this close to him, let alone kiss him or do half the things they’d just done. “I’ll meet you down there?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Sokka promised. He leaned in to press his lips to the boy’s unscarred cheek. When he pulled away again the boy was flushed red, and smiled one last time before turning and heading back inside.

Sokka hopped down the stairs and back into the grass, feeling a goofy smile slide onto his face. He raised his phone to his ear and said, “Howdy!” 

“Well, someone’s in a good mood,” Suki’s voice said on the other end.

“I have had _so much_ alcohol, Suks.”

“Good. That’s what you were supposed to do.”

A few of the groups in the yard had dispersed into the darkness. Sokka could see a pair of girls making out just a few feet away from him and turned away, mind already straying back to the golden-eyed boy waiting for him in the basement. 

“How’s everything on your end?”

“Well,” Suki said. “We’re watching Moana.”

Sokka frowned. “Suki, it’s almost midnight.”

“I know.” Suki sounded exhausted. “I’m sorry, but she said she won’t go to sleep until you’re home. We’ve been trying to wear her out, but…”

Sokka sighed and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. He could feel the buzz of alcohol fading as all of his responsibilities rushed back to him at once. “She’s too stubborn,” he said. “And we need to be up early in the morning. Fuck, I should have known this would happen. I’ll just- I’ll just head home.”

“I’m sorry, Sokka, I didn’t want to interrupt your night. Maybe she’ll fall asleep after the movie.”

“No, if she gets less than eight hours of sleep she’s a menace,” Sokka said. “Besides, you and Toph need to get some rest.”

“We’ll stay as long as you need us to, Sokka.”

Sokka couldn’t help but smile. “I know,” he said softly. “Thank you, Suki. I’ll be back in twenty minutes or so.”

“Are you going to walk?”

“Yeah, it’s not that far.” 

“Alright. I’ll see if we can at least get her into her bed.”

“You can try, but don’t be disappointed when it doesn’t work. I’ll be there as soon as I can, just hold tight.”

He hung up, already walking around the side of the house to the front. He’d gotten a ride from Haru there, but he was only a few blocks away from his own apartment, and he was reasonably confident he’d be able to find his way back in the dark. The sky was inky black overhead, with too many clouds lingering for the stars to shine through. 

Sokka was halfway down the block when he realized he hadn’t even gotten the boy from the party’s phone number. He stopped walking abruptly. The guy had been cute, _and_ sweet. In the rush of needing to get home, Sokka had forgotten to tell him goodbye.

Sokka wrestled with his disappointment for only a moment before continuing on his way. It was already bad enough that he’d let himself get carried away when he had things he actually _should_ be doing. It had been nice- really nice- to get out of his own head for a little bit, but even if he’d wanted to, Sokka wouldn’t have been able to see him again. He didn’t have time for stuff like that. He hadn’t had time for this party tonight, either, but he couldn’t bring himself to fully regret going.

The cold air had sobered Sokka almost entirely by the time he reached his apartment complex. He pulled his keys out, opening the heavy iron gate leading into the barren courtyard. The complex was completely unlit, so Sokka had to use muscle memory to guide him to the steps leading to the second story balconies, feeling his way along the rusted railing until he reached his apartment. 

Sokka eased the door open as quietly as possible and slipped inside. The television was on in the front room, casting bright blue light onto the space and illuminating the three figures curled up on the couch.

Sokka saw a head poke above a bundle of blankets. “Sokka!” squealed a small voice.

Sokka walked over, chuckling as the tiny figure struggled to untangle herself from her blanket cocoon. “Hello, you little monster,” he said, reaching out to pluck her up and into his arms. He made sure to visibly strain under her weight, groaning loudly, partly to make her giggle and partly because she really _was_ getting too big for this. “It is _way_ past your bedtime.”

“I wanted to make sure you got home safe,” Katara said. She wrapped her arms securely around Sokka’s neck, big brown eyes blinking at him in the darkness. “It’s past _your_ bedtime, too.”

On the couch, Suki snorted. Toph was sprawled out beside her, head tipped back and mouth open as she snored. 

“I’m an adult,” Sokka reminded her. “I don’t have a bedtime. You’re still a baby.”

“I am not,” said Katara, the faintest whine in her voice. “I’m almost seven!”

“Six and one quarter exactly,” Sokka said. He readjusted his grip on his sister to make sure she was comfortable and glanced at Suki. “I’m going to put her to bed real quick, I’ll be right back.”

“No rush,” Suki said, attention already turned back to the television. “This is the best part.”

“I wanna finish the movie,” Katara complained as Sokka turned to carry her towards the bedroom. She immediately betrayed herself with a yawn, and Sokka chuckled.

“You’ve finished it a dozen times,” he said, opening the door with one hand in a practiced move and nudging it open with his hip. He flicked on the light as he walked in, illuminating the tiny room. There were two beds there, pressed against opposite walls; Sokka carried Katara over to the one covered in pastel blue blankets and littered with stuffed animals. 

“I like Moana.”

“Moana’s dope,” Sokka agreed. He tugged Katara’s blankets back and set her down on the bed. 

Katara’s dark hair was still tied back into the neat braid Sokka had done for her before he’d left for the party. Despite the amount of energy she seemed to have left, her eyes were drooping, and Sokka knew she’d be gone in a matter of minutes.

“I wish I could control water like her.” Katara laid down against her pillow, curling on her side to watch Sokka as he tugged the blankets over her and smoothed them down. 

“Maybe you can. Have you ever tried it before?”

Katara wrinkled her nose. “That’s only in movies.”

“Really?” Sokka asked, raising his eyebrows at her. “That’s weird. I can control fire, you know.” He waggled his fingers in Katara’s face, mimicking flames and drawing a tired giggle out of her.

“I don’t believe you,” she said.

“I’ll prove it tomorrow,” Sokka said. “Right now, it is way past _both_ of our bedtimes.” He leaned across the bed to grab two worn stuffed animals, a sea turtle and a polar bear. “Who gets the honor tonight, Ena or Kiki?” 

“Kiki,” Katara said. Sokka set the sea turtle carefully on the edge of the bed and then pulled the blankets back to hand the polar bear to Katara, who grabbed it and hugged it close to her chest.

“Are you going to bed, too?” Katara asked. Her eyes were already slipping shut.

“In a few minutes,” Sokka said. “I need to say goodnight to Suki and Toph.”

“Say goodnight fast.”

Sokka laughed softly and smoothed a hand over Katara’s hair, brushing her bangs away from her face. “Miss me much?”

Katara’s eyes were closed. The polar bear was tucked underneath her chin. “I don’t like it when you leave,” she said sleepily.

Sokka swallowed down the guilt rising in his throat. “I won’t do it again, kitty cat,” he said, but Katara’s breathing had already evened out; she was asleep.

Sokka leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead, then stood up. He picked his way across the room the two of them shared. The other bed was the only sign someone other than Katara slept there. The walls were plastered with crayon drawings she’d done and the floor was littered with toys and books she’d accumulated over the years. Anything else of Sokka’s had been slowly replaced by Katara’s things. He didn’t mind. He just wished he could give her her own room. 

Sokka turned the light off as he left. In the living room, Toph was awake and sitting upright again, scowling at nothing.

“Four hours of Disney movies with _no_ audio descriptions, Sokka,” she said as Suki grabbed the remote and muted the television. “I have been trapped in my personal hell all night.”

“Sorry,” Sokka said. He sat down at the tiny kitchen table, suddenly feeling exhausted. He didn’t normally stay up this late. “I got back as quickly as I could. Seriously, thank you guys for watching Katara tonight. You didn’t have to.”

“You haven’t gone to a party since high school, Sokka,” Suki said, “and Haru wanted you to go. It was really no problem.”

Toph stretched her arms over her head, grunting when her shoulder popped. “Yeah,” she said, rolling it in its socket with a curious expression on her face. “We’ll watch the brat anytime, socks-for-brains. It’s a godmother’s duty.”

Sokka rolled his eyes. “You’re still not Katara’s godmother, Toph,” he said. 

“And I still think that’s dumb as hell.”

“How was the party?” Suki asked. 

Sokka smiled despite himself. He could still feel the phantom press of warm lips against his. “Really fun, actually. Thanks for forcing me to go.” 

Toph perked up. “I know that tone of voice,” she said. Her clouded eyes settled somewhere above Sokka’s head. “You got laid!” 

“How the fuck can you hear that in my voice?” Sokka asked incredulously as Suki turned wide eyes on him.

“You got _laid_?” she asked, thankfully keeping her voice quiet enough to not wake Katara. 

Sokka sniffed. “It’s none of your business.”

“Uh, yes it is,” Toph said. “The last time you got laid was at that party we went to together, which, might I say again, was in _high school_.” 

“Okay, first of all,” Sokka said, raising a finger in the air, “that’s not fucking true. Second of all, it’s none of your fucking business. Now please leave my apartment so I can shower and go to bed.”

“Showering off all those cooties you got from getting laid tonight?” Toph asked as Suki stood up and stretched. 

“Showering off all the cooties I got from being around _you_ ,” Sokka said.

“Alright, we can argue about this in the group chat in the morning, after I’ve gotten some sleep,” Suki said before Toph could respond. She walked across the room to the front door, grabbing her keys off the kitchen counter as she passed it. “C’mon, Toph, I’ll leave you behind if you don’t get in my car fast enough.”

“Bossy,” Toph muttered, but followed after Suki. 

Sokka stood to walk them to the door, holding it open for them as they stepped outside. “Thanks again, guys,” he said. “Seriously. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Die, probably,” said Toph.

“Probably,” Sokka agreed.

“Wait,” Suki said before Sokka could close the door. Her short hair was tied back out of her face, and her dark eyes were shrewd as they swept over Sokka. “Just one thing- were they cute?”

Sokka pressed his hand against the cold door. He thought about the stranger at the party, about his dark hair and smooth skin and curling smile.

“Yes,” he said. “He was.”

Suki’s expression softened into a smile. She turned to go, and this time it was Toph that spoke up one last time.

“Hold up,” she said. “So are you still a top, or did you switch it up tonight and try-?”

Sokka shut the door in her face. 

He moved through the most basic of nighttime routines, too exhausted to do much more than turn the television and the lights off and make sure the front door and all the windows were securely locked. When everything was closed down in the front room Sokka went into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.

The shower handle squeaked as he turned it on. As he waited for the water to warm up he stripped out of his clothes, balling his boxers up and shoving them deep in the dirty clothes hamper tucked into the corner of the small bathroom. He stepped into the shower as soon as it was warm enough to bear, scrubbing himself off as quick as he could.

He dried off with a kind-of clean towel and dug out a pair of pajamas from the pile of clothes that had gathered on the tiled floor. He’d have to seriously catch up on the chores tomorrow. He’d been kept so busy by work and the start of classes that he had let a lot of them slip recently. Another reason he really shouldn’t have gone to the party that night, but Suki and Toph had taken the idea of giving him a night off and run with it, and Sokka couldn’t help but be grateful for it. He hadn’t gone out like that since his father had passed away. 

When Sokka had pulled on the pajamas and towel dried his hair, he shut the lights off in the bathroom and went back to the bedroom. He eased the door open, pausing briefly to make sure he could still hear Katara’s steady breathing as she slept, and then crept carefully across the room. He fell onto his bed, throwing his head back against the pillow and taking a steadying breath. He was pretty sure most of the effects from the alcohol had worn off by now, but he still felt exhausted from the night. He’d forgotten how much partying took out of him.

Sokka curled onto his side and tugged the blanket over himself the best he could. He’d left his phone in the bathroom, but he didn’t bother to grab it to set an alarm. It was rare that he slept past five in the morning these days, no matter how late he went to bed, so Sokka wasn’t worried about oversleeping tomorrow.

Instead, he shut his eyes and let himself drift away to the familiar sounds of Katara breathing and snuffling faintly in her sleep, picturing a pretty face with gold eyes to lull himself into unconsciousness.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zuko woke up slowly. The room he was in was bright and his head was pounding, so he threw an arm over his eyes and groaned loudly to voice his displeasure.

“Oh, good, he’s alive,” said a dry voice above him.

Zuko pulled his arm back to squint up at Azula, who was leaning over him with a very unimpressed expression.

“If you want coffee,” she said, “you’ll have to get up and get it yourself.”

Zuko could hear other people in the kitchen, the sound of dishes clattering. As Azula moved away he used the couch cushions as leverage to sit up, his hand moving to his forehead as his head spun. 

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Zuko looked up to see Ty Lee standing there, her hair tied back in a high ponytail, dressed in a pink tank top and yoga pants. She was holding a mug of coffee in both hands, which she held out to Zuko with a smile.

“Thanks,” Zuko said, his voice hoarse. He reached out to take it, curling his fingers around the warmth. 

“I’m making omelets,” Ty Lee said, moving back over to the kitchen.

Zuko twisted to rest his elbows on the back of the couch. He’d ended up in Mai, Ty Lee, and Azula’s apartment somehow. The windows were open, letting in bright late morning sunlight, and all three of the girls were gathered in the kitchen. Mai, seated at the bar counter and holding a mug of her own coffee, stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Someone had fun last night,” she said. 

Azula leaned against the counter and snickered. Zuko frowned, raising his hand to follow their eyes to- his neck?

“What?” he asked defensively, getting to his feet on shaky legs. He walked over to the mirror hung on the far wall and tried not to wince when he saw his own reflection. His hair was mussed, his eyes were red, and worst of all, he had several bright marks peppering his neck.

“Hickies, Zuzu,” Azula said over his groan. “How juvenile.”

“Shut up.” 

Zuko walked back over to the couch and collapsed down on it. He raised the coffee to his lips and inhaled deeply, trying to force the aroma into his brain to wake it up. “What happened?”

“Well, after you disappeared from the party last night to do… who knows what,” Azula said, eyes lingering on his neck, “we found you sitting in the dirt in the backyard, totally shitfaced and moaning about dying alone. You know, the usual.”

Eggs sizzled on the pan as Ty Lee poured them in and then turned around to look at Zuko with concern. “What happened, Zuko?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Zuko muttered. He took a sip of his coffee, which was black and bitter and perfect for his mood. 

“Was it that Jet guy again?” Azula asked, face twisting with irritation. 

“No.” Zuko brought his knees up, pressing back against the cushions. He was still wearing the clothes from the party last night. He felt dirty. “It was- some stranger. I’ll never see him again.”

“What, you let him make a five-course meal out of your neck and then didn’t get his number?” Mai asked.

“After he used me to get off he told me he’d meet me back at the party and never showed up,” Zuko snapped at her. He deflated, chin dropping to the back of the couch. “I looked for him for the rest of the night. I couldn’t even find anyone who knew him.”

Zuko could still remember the slow, cold disappointment he’d felt as he’d waited down in the basement for a guy who would never come down. Zuko had searched the backyard, the entire house, even rooms that were off-limits to partygoers, before realizing that he’d simply been ditched. He couldn’t remember much after that, though, because according to Azula he’d gotten “totally shitfaced.” 

That sounded about on par with his coping mechanisms.

“Oh, Zuko, I’m sorry,” Ty Lee said, frowning sympathetically at him. “That’s so shitty.”

Zuko shrugged. “It’s okay,” he lied. “I’m just glad he… got what he wanted, I guess.” 

“Men are assholes,” Mai said.

“Seconded,” said Azula.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” Ty Lee flipped a finished omelet onto a plate and walked it over to the counter, sliding it in front of Azula and leaning in to peck her on the cheek. Azula pulled a face but was smiling slightly as she picked up the fork Ty Lee had left for her.

“I don’t care that much,” Zuko said. “It wasn’t like I was expecting this guy to be my… my soulmate, or…” 

Zuko _had_ thought they’d had a genuine connection, though. He’d certainly been the most attractive person Zuko had ever been with- dark skin and hair, bright blue eyes, a smile and a voice that had made Zuko warm all over… and those stupid fucking puns, which Zuko had thought were cute until he’d been ditched. Now he wanted to crawl into a pit and pass away from the humiliation of actually falling for that shit. 

He hadn’t even wanted to go to the party last night. Azula had forced him to, because Zuko rarely went out for fun. When he’d met that guy Zuko had at least thought he’d found a solid reason to be there that night. 

“I highly doubt you’ll find your soulmate in some strange, dirty basement, Zuzu,” Azula said. 

“Yeah, you’ll find your soulmate the way everyone does nowadays,” Mai said. “Online.”

“Is that how you met your new fling, Mai?” Azula asked.

“Stop it, Azula,” Ty Lee said, frowning at her girlfriend. She slid an omelet in front of Mai and said, “I can’t wait to meet her, Mai. She sounds nice!”

“Is this the blind one?” Zuko asked, sipping at his coffee. 

“Ableist,” said Azula. 

Zuko glared at her. “That’s _literally_ the only description Mai gave us.”

“She was busy last night,” Mai said. She, at least, looked half as tired as Zuko felt. Her chin was rested on her fist, free hand idly poking at her omelet with her fork, eyes drooping like she was about to fall asleep at the counter.

On second thought, she was probably just bored. 

“Alright, enough relationship talk,” Azula said, waving her hand dismissively in the air. “I know that I for one have actual things I need to do today. I can’t stand around blathering about these trivialities.”

“It’s Sunday, Azula,” Ty Lee said. 

“Yes, and I’ve got plenty of homework I need to get done.”

“It’s Sunday?” Zuko asked. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying fruitlessly to put his steadily growing headache to rest. “Fuck. I have to finish reviewing those case files today. I knew I should have stayed in last night to look them over.” 

He stood up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch them as he walked over to set his mug down on the counter. “I need to get going.”

“You don’t want breakfast?” Ty Lee asked.

“No,” Zuko said. They’d left his phone out on the counter for him, thank god. He picked it up and checked to make sure he had enough battery percentage to get home. “That’s alright. Thanks, though.” He glanced up at Azula and said, “I’ll see you at Iroh’s tonight.”

“If I have to,” Azula said, stabbing at her omelet. “Need us to call you a car?”

“I’ve got it,” Zuko said, pulling the app up and moving over to the door. “Bye everyone.”

“Bye Zuko,” Ty Lee said cheerfully, waving her spatula at him. 

Zuko called for an Uber Black as he waited for the elevator. He ruffled his hair to try and bring some volume back into it- he was _definitely_ due for a shower- and sighed when he glanced down at his shirt. The silk was horribly wrinkled, which meant he’d have to take it into the dry cleaners later. Yet another chore he didn’t have time for.

While he waited for his car Zuko pulled up his emails, beginning his daily task of looking carefully through each one to make sure he wasn’t missing anything important. He focused carefully in on his work, deciding to simply ignore the distraction of thinking about whatever had transpired last night. 

It wasn’t like it had mattered, anyways. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Theatre has sought to not only document society,” Professor Lily said, “but to _reflect_ it. Theatre is the mirror through which society views itself.” She pressed her hands together and then pulled them apart, miming a mirror. The bangles around her wrist jangled as she moved. 

Zuko balanced his notebook on his knee and scribbled down an approximation of the quote. Introduction to Theatre took place in a large music room filled with nothing but chairs spread in a half-moon around Professor Lily, leaving them few surfaces to take notes on. That was fine for everyone else, as Professor Lily seemed to actively discourage note-taking, and reassured Zuko almost daily that there wouldn’t be any examinations to study for. She was one of those hippie teachers that had always frustrated Zuko’s father. Zuko actually quite enjoyed her style of teaching, but it was only the second week of class, and he couldn’t afford to stop paying attention quite yet.

“While oral storytelling has been a longstanding tradition in many cultures,” said Professor Lily, “theatre as we know it today found its roots in ancient Greece. The first plays were performed in the Theatre of Dionysus. Dionysus, as we all know from the readings, was-”

The door creaked open, causing just enough distraction for Zuko to catch up on his notes. He underlined Dionysus- he’d always been good with the Greek myths, he’d have plenty to supplement his notes with later- as Professor Lily said, “Ah, a late-comer! To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“I’m so sorry,” said whoever had just walked in, footsteps loud against the linoleum. “I’ve never been to this building, and I had no idea where the room was-”

“Not to worry, my dear,” said Professor Lily. Her voice was kind. Zuko really did think she might be better suited to teaching middle school rather than college. “You must be our new student. Please take a seat.”

Zuko finished off his paragraph and started a bullet point on the next line, then finally glanced up at the student walking over to one of the empty seats on the opposite side of the room- then promptly fumbled his pen and dropped it to the floor with a clatter.

“Sorry,” Zuko muttered to the few classmates that had looked at him. He bent down and snatched the pen up, straightening in his seat. His heart had quickened in his chest. He kept his gaze carefully fixed on Professor Lily, who had begun speaking again.

“Now, where was I?” she asked. She steepled her fingers for a moment, the pink flower on her headwrap flopping as she thought. “Ah- Dionysus! Dionysus was the Greek god of wine, ritual madness, and _theatre_. This link between madness and performance, of course…”

Zuko pressed his pen against his notebook, trying to refocus his attention on taking notes. This was fine. Zuko hadn’t even- he hadn’t even gotten a good look at the guy. He was probably wrong.

He had to double-check. Zuko took a low, steadying breath, then raised his head just enough to peek over in the direction the new student had sat down. He’d taken a spot in the back of the classroom next to a girl who had already been caught nodding off multiple times by Professor Lily. The guy had dark hair tied back in a short ponytail and was wearing a pale blue muscle tank that did a great job of showing off his arms. Zuko could still remember the feel of them under his fingers, warm and toned, so well-defined they’d made his knees weak, firm as they’d pressed Zuko up against a wall and--

The boy’s eyes flickered up from the bag he’d been setting on the floor to Zuko. Zuko felt his face burning as the guy frowned curiously for a moment before his eyes widened with recognition.

Zuko quickly turned to face Professor Lily again. She was wandering about the front of the room now, going on about… something. Zuko looked down at his notes and lifted his pen off the page, biting back a swear. He’d left a dark spot of ink on the page. 

Zuko could still feel the boy’s gaze on him, heavy, almost scorching, and Zuko tried to surreptitiously tug on the neck of the turtleneck he’d been wearing for the last few days to make sure he was fully covered. He tapped his pen against his knee, staring hard at Professor Lily. 

This wasn’t _fucking fair_. Zuko had made peace with the fact that he’d never see the guy again. He’d made peace with the fact that he’d been played so easily. He’d gotten a decent hook-up out of it, after all, which wasn’t something Zuko had had in awhile. Zuko had been ready to chalk it all up to a learning experience and carry on with his life.

Who joins an introductory theatre course nearly two weeks into the semester, anyways?

Zuko scowled and hunched over his notebook, determined to refocus on the lesson. Professor Lily had moved on to reading excerpts from a few of the early Greek plays and offering lines up for class analysis. Zuko listened to his classmates attempt to explain what was happening in each scene and took dutiful notes. He could sense that someone was watching him occasionally, but Zuko was good at ignoring things he didn’t want to engage with. 

It was fine. They were in the same class- so what? He was on the opposite side of the room. They would never even have to speak to one another. 

“Thank you for your attention today,” Professor Lily said when the end of class arrived and her students began to gather their things. “I’ll see you all on Thursday. Remember to take some time to read a book or listen to some music- understanding art is the first step to _becoming_ it.”

Zuko closed his notebook, slid it into his bag, and stood up. His classmates were chatting around him as they got to their feet, but Zuko never lingered after class was over. He grabbed his bag and headed straight for the exit so he was the first one out the door. 

He made it only a few steps down the hallway before a voice called behind him, “Hey, wait up!”

Zuko pressed his lips tightly together, but stopped walking. He turned to scowl at the guy rushing towards him. He was tugging a worn messenger bag covered in bright pins over one shoulder, and looked far too at ease as he drew to a stop in front of Zuko.

“Hey,” he said. He reached up to rub the back of his neck, and Zuko felt his gaze linger on his arms another moment before he snapped his eyes back up to keep glaring at him. “I don’t, uh, know if you remember-?”

“You don’t know if I remember a party that happened three days ago?” Zuko cut in. He didn’t have the patience for this. Hearing the guy talk made it all worse, brought back the humiliation he’d felt waiting in that stuffy, crowded basement for a boy that would never come. 

The boy’s mouth quirked up into an awkward smile. “So you do remember me.”

Yeah, Zuko didn’t have time for this. He turned to keep walking, digging in his pocket for his car keys. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised when the boy hurried to follow him, footsteps loud as he hastened to catch up. 

“Listen, I’m really sorry I didn’t come back to the party,” the guy said. “Something came up, and-”

“I get it,” Zuko said. “Seriously. We don’t have to do this.” 

“But I’m-”

“I don’t _want_ to do this,” Zuko snapped. He turned a corner and shoved open a side door that let out into the parking lot. It was a cool day caught somewhere between summer and autumn, and the sun shone bright and golden overhead. The leaves were due to start changing soon.

“Would you quit walking away?” the guy asked behind him, sounding annoyed now.

“Would you quit following me?”

“I’m just trying to have a conversation with you.”

Zuko ground to an abrupt halt again. “Fine,” he said, spinning on his heel to face the guy again, who stopped suddenly, looking startled by the sudden confrontation. “You want to have a conversation about this? Okay. We are two consenting adults who shared an intimate moment while we were totally wasted. You told me you were going to come find me, then decided not to, and now you feel bad about it- fine. Apology accepted.” Zuko’s keys jangled as he hit the button to unlock his car, which was thankfully just a few spaces down. “Is that enough conversation for you?”

The guy’s expression twisted. He was wearing some kind of shell necklace, and had one ear pierced with a small silver hoop. His eyes were so blue it was a little off-putting, and even when he was frowning he was really quite- _not the time, Zuko_. 

“You’re not very nice,” the guy said, pointing it out like he was commenting on the weather. 

Zuko stared at him incredulously. When nothing else followed that, Zuko shook his head and said, “And you’re shitty at apologies.” 

“I said I was sorry,” the guy called out as Zuko stalked over to his car and grabbed the door handle, yanking it open.

Zuko threw his bag across the console into the passenger’s seat and sat down. “Apology fucking accepted!” he shouted back, and then slammed the door shut.

Zuko had barely managed to start his car when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He made an angry sound as he fished it out, pressed it to his ear without checking the caller id, and snapped, “What?” 

“My, my,” said his uncle’s sedated voice on the other end. “It seems I’ve caught you in a bad mood. Should I call back in a few minutes?”

“What do you want, Uncle?” Zuko pulled out of the parking spot with one hand on the wheel. He glanced over in the direction of the music building and was glad to see that the guy was walking away, stupid messenger bag in hand. Hopefully that had been enough to deter any further _conversation_. Zuko had dealt with enough guys like that to know it sometimes took a few tries before they gave up. 

“I simply wanted to check in on my favorite nephew. It gets so lonely working the shop all by myself.”

“You have four employees, Uncle.”

“But they are all such diligent workers, they hardly have time to chat.”

Zuko rolled his eyes as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I can’t talk right now. I need to head into the office to finish looking over some paperwork for Izayi.” 

“Back to the office so soon, nephew?” 

“She’s got a big case next week. I’ll be there a lot until then.” 

“Alright,” Iroh said. “Give me a call when you have some time to chat. Or stop by the shop, if possible. I think I’ve created a new blend that you’ll really enjoy.”

“Sure, Uncle,” Zuko said. “Bye.”

“Goodbye, nephew.” 

Zuko hung up and tossed his phone onto the passenger’s seat next to his bag. He braced both hands against the wheel and glared through the front window at the red light he was sitting at. 

Zuko had only taken that stupid theatre class because he’d had the space in his schedule, and his uncle had encouraged him to take something purely for the sake of enjoying it. As usual, Zuko shouldn’t have listened to him. Iroh’s advice was always very pretty and well-meaning, but every time Zuko tried to follow it his life got somehow even more fucked up than it usually was. 

Zuko had re-learned two lessons- never listen to his uncle, and never listen to attractive guys trying to sweet-talk him. He’d always learned lessons best when he learned them the hard way. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sokka pulled the grimy apron over his head as he passed through the kitchen, heading for the open office door. The air was thick with the scent of charred meat and smoke and the cooks had to shout to one another to be heard over the sound of oil frying.

“Mongke, I’m off,” Sokka said, poking his head into the tiny office. It was really nothing more than a broom closet that someone had shoved a desk and a few file cabinets into, dimly lit by a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling with a wire. Sokka had no idea how Mongke stayed cooped up in here all day. It would drive Sokka crazy.

“Did you clean the fryers like I asked you to?” Mongke asked without looking up from his computer screen.

“All of them except for the ones the cooks are _using_.”

At that, Mongke raised his head to glare at Sokka. “Don’t give me lip, boy,” he said. He was a large man with a greasy black ponytail and intimidatingly sculpted facial hair. His beady black eyes made Sokka twitch whenever he was stared down, but Sokka had given up trying to argue back to him.

“Sorry, sir,” he said. He shifted his weight where he stood and said, feeling awkward, “I came to grab my tips for the week?”

“Your what?” Mongke had gone back to whatever he was doing on the computer.

“My tips.” Mongke’s eyebrow twitched. “Sir,” Sokka added. 

Mongke grunted. He grabbed a white envelope off his desk and held it out to Sokka without looking at him. Sokka took it, trying not to look too eager, and opened it up to peek inside.

“Is this it?” he asked, feeling sticky disappointment creep down his spine at the sparse bills inside.

“Do I look like the person that controls your tips? If you want more money, give better service.”

Sokka opened his mouth to argue, and then closed it. It wasn’t worth it, and besides, he was already late to pick up Katara. 

“Thanks,” he muttered. Mongke simply grunted again in response. 

He grabbed his coat from his locker as he left, tugging it on and hooking his bag over his neck. He made sure the envelope was tucked deep within before leaving the kitchen, passing through the front of the restaurant. The Rough Rhino was a small hole-in-the-wall Korean barbecue place. It was old and a little dingy, and the menu was criminally limited, but at some point a few food blogs had taken a liking to the aesthetic and wrote a series of reviews that had turned it into a pretty trendy place to show off on social media. 

Sokka didn’t care about how trendy the place was, or how awful his boss and coworkers were. All he cared about was that he got a solid paycheck for bussing tables and taking orders during rush hours, and that Mongke always seemed to have odd errands for Sokka to run that earned him some money under the table as well. 

Katara’s school was only a few blocks away, which was another plus. Sokka walked quickly, cutting through a dingy side alley to shave a few minutes off his route. He grimaced when he accidentally stepped in a puddle and the water immediately bled through his sneaker to his sock. Damn, and he had just done laundry, too.

As he walked, Sokka let his thoughts stray to the envelope in his bag. He’d worked a lot of hours this week, and had been counting on earning much more than that. Sokka chewed his bottom lip as he went through the mental math in his head, trying to figure out how short he’d be on rent this month. He had one more paycheck to collect, but it would be tight. He might have been able to work something out with his landlord, but she’d already given him several extensions this year, and Sokka knew that her goodwill would run out eventually.

That was fine. Money was tight, but money was always tight for them. Sokka would figure out a way to stretch what they had. He’d stop buying that good bacon from the deli counter, and forego those new sneakers he’d been meaning to buy for himself, even though the soles on his current ones had been worn paper thin.

“I’ve got this,” Sokka said out loud, trying to boost his own confidence. 

He immediately stepped into another puddle, this time with his other foot, leaving him in a very squishy pair of socks. Sokka closed his eyes briefly, sighed, and then trudged onwards.

The elementary school was quiet when Sokka got there. Actual class had ended hours ago, but one of the teachers ran a daycare-type system out of her classroom for parents who couldn’t pick their children up until after work. Sokka walked through the empty hallway, glancing as he passed at the bulletin boards decorated to the seams with bubble letters and proudly displayed artwork. 

When he reached the open classroom door he was looking for, he stepped inside and knocked on the doorframe. “Hi,” he said to the teacher, a pretty woman with dark hair and kind features. “I’m looking for a little girl, have you seen her? She’s about six inches tall, and she’s got blue skin with green polka-dots-”

“Sokka!” 

Sokka slapped his palm to his forehead as Katara leapt up from the carpet she’d been sitting on and ran over to him. “There she is.” He crouched down to squint at her as she approached, frowning curiously. “Wow, I was way off. Has your hair always been brown?”

Katara giggled. “We have the same hair, Sokka!” 

“Oh, do we?” Sokka opened his arms wide and Katara threw herself at him, burying her face in his shoulder. Sokka braced himself as he lifted her up, grunting when her arms tightened around his neck. “Jeez, Katara, how many cookies did they give you?” 

“It’s nice to see you, Sokka,” said Katara’s teacher. The room was empty except for him, and although there was no admonishment in her face, Sokka couldn’t help but wince.

“I’m so sorry I was late again,” he said. “I got held up at work.”

“Not a problem at all,” said the teacher, smiling at him. “Katara is very well-behaved. I hardly even noticed she was here.”

Katara pulled back to look at Sokka and said proudly, “I was reading a book about mermaids. It’s a third-grade level book.”

“Wow, that’s a higher level than I can read,” said Sokka. “C’mon, you can tell me all about it on the way home.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Katara,” said her teacher.

“Bye, Ms. Cheng,” Katara said, waving at her.

When they were out in the hallway Sokka set Katara down on her feet. “You smell like food,” she said, slipping her hand into his. 

“All good chefs smell like food. It’s like free perfume,” said Sokka, pushing the door open. 

“What’d you make today?” Katara asked, hopping down the front steps and tugging Sokka after her.

“Lots of yummy stuff. Beef bulgogi, shrimp, spicy rice cakes-”

“I want that for dinner!” 

“Oh, you don’t want that,” Sokka said, waving his free hand dismissively. “I make much better dishes. How about I make you… my famous spaghetti and meatballs tonight?” 

“With cheese?” Katara asked hopefully.

“With cheese,” Sokka assured her.

Katara beamed, her smile bright. Sokka grinned back, then looked away; the older Katara got, the more she started to look like their mom. The resemblance was already so startling it sometimes made Sokka freeze up when Katara pulled a face that made her look like a younger ghost of Kya. There wasn’t anything wrong with it, of course, it was just- jarring, sometimes. 

“Did you see Aang today?” Sokka asked.

“Yeah! We played moon magic.”

“Oh? And what’s moon magic?”

“We can move puddles with our minds,” Katara said. She pushed her lower lip out thoughtfully. “But it only works when the moon is out, so we kind of just watched the puddles during recess.”

“Sounds fun.”

Katara hummed in assent and hopped over a crack in the sidewalk, swinging their joined hands between them. “Aang said that Gyatso said that it’s going to rain a lot next week.”

“Well, Gyatso’s normally right about stuff like that,” Sokka said. He really liked Katara’s friend Aang, and his guardian, as well; he was pretty sure Gyatso was an actual monk, which was cool, even though Sokka didn’t know how that worked out logistically. 

“When are you taking me to get my new raincoat?”

Sokka frowned. “You already have a raincoat.”

Katara shot him a _well, duh_ look and said, “It’s got _holes_ in it, Sokka. All the rain is gonna get in. You promised you’d get me a new one the last time it rained.”

“Did I,” Sokka said. He couldn’t recall promising anything like that, but Katara had always had a better memory than him.

“You _did_. Ainsley just got a new red one that’s super pretty. I want one like hers!” 

A new raincoat was definitely not in their budget for the month. Sokka gripped Katara’s hand tighter and glanced down at her. She was looking up at him with wide brown eyes, bottom lip pursed hopefully. 

“We’ll go this weekend,” Sokka said. He couldn’t send Katara to school with holes in her coat, and he definitely couldn’t resist her puppy dog eyes. 

Katara cheered, hopping over another crack and bringing Sokka’s hand soaring into the air with her. Sokka watched her with a small smile, already running through the numbers in his head. He’d just have to be a bit smarter with his grocery shopping for the next few weeks. It’d be fine.

When they reached the apartment complex Sokka unlocked the gate and pushed it open for Katara to run through. Their landlord was shuffling through the courtyard to the main office, wrapped in several layers despite the warm weather.

“Hi, Hama!” Katara called, waving as she ran past the woman for the stairs. Hama smiled at both of them, raising a wrinkled hand in greeting as she slipped into her office. 

“Slow down, kitty cat,” Sokka said, following behind her as she sprinted up the stairs. “I’m old. I can’t go as fast as you.”

“You’re not old,” Katara said over her shoulder, “and I’m not a cat.”

“That’s what Mom and Dad named you after, though. Cat-ara. Huh? Get it?”

Exasperation had been the first expression Katara had mastered for a reason. Sokka chuckled as he slipped his key into the lock on the front door and turned it. 

“I’ll start dinner,” he said as Katara kicked her shoes off and turned to sprint for the bedroom. “Clean your room!”

“Okay,” Katara said, braid flapping behind her as she ran.

Sokka walked over to the table and dropped his bag down. He opened it and pulled out the envelope, glancing inside once more with a frown, hoping that somehow its contents had doubled when he hadn’t been looking. They hadn’t, of course, and Sokka sighed as he set it down and dumped the rest of the stuff out of his bag.

He grabbed his phone charger, shoving aside the textbook for that stupid theatre class with a scowl. He could already tell after class that morning that it was going to be an absolute nightmare. Sokka didn’t even like theatre, but he needed to finish another gen ed, and Theatre 101 was the only class that had worked with his schedule. The textbook alone had cost more than what Sokka spent on himself in a whole month, and apparently he would be sharing that class with a guy that hated his guts. 

A very _attractive_ guy that hated his guts. Sokka felt his stomach twist with guilt as he thought back to their conversation earlier. He had been pleasantly surprised to see the stranger from the party sitting in class at first, until he’d very quickly figured out that there were still some hard feelings there. 

Sokka understood why he hadn’t wanted to talk to him. Sokka had pulled a dick move at the party, nothing he would normally do if he hadn’t been distracted. He felt rotten just thinking about it. It had been stupid to think the guy would want anything to do with him after that. 

“Sokka,” Katara said, poking her head back into the room. “Can you re-do my hair?”

“Sure, kitty cat,” Sokka said. He grabbed the envelope off the table and carefully slipped it back into his pocket so Katara wouldn’t see it. “Let me get the water started for our pasta and then I’ll come in and help you.”

“Kay,” Katara said, disappearing back into her room.

Sokka took a deep breath. He reached up to press his fingers over his eyes, giving himself just five seconds to absorb all the stress of the day before releasing it in a sharp exhale. As he lowered his hands again he plastered a grin on his face and stepped into the kitchen.

“Chef Sokka could use a sous chef,” he called out, his smile softening into something more genuine at Katara’s answering laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, starting another fic even though I have others already in progress? It's more likely than you'd think. 
> 
> Hi everyone, I'm sick and stuck back home for winter break so welcome to the comfort fic I've been writing for myself! Sokka being the Best Big Brother™ is my favorite trope, and I've also been itching to write some Sokka angst, so this just kind of... happened. I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter- please, please let me know what you think below, I'm literally running on fumes and AO3 comments at this point. 
> 
> Take care of yourselves everyone <3


	2. i wouldn't ask you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: hints at unspecified eating disorder

“There were three genres of drama within the Greek Classical world,” Professor Lily said. She was perched on a folding chair in front of the class, leaning forward to demonstrate her complete and utter engagement, hands clasped in front of her. She was wearing a headwrap with a large, artificial flower pinned to it; what Sokka had thought was a strange fashion choice the first day he’d been to class last week was, apparently, just part of her everyday look. 

“The comedy,” Professor Lily said, raising her first finger. “The satyr play.” The second. “And, most important of all- the _tragedy_.” Yep, there was the third one. 

Sokka pushed himself back in his seat, slumping even further down. For the millionth time that day he found his mind wandering away from whatever the hell Professor Lily was talking about, and let his gaze drift around the room.

Sokka was typically a _very_ good student. He knew how much of a privilege it was to be able to continue attending school, and he wasn’t about to take that for granted. He was top of his class in every math or science class he needed to take, but he’d always stumbled with his gen eds. Maybe it had been a mistake taking a class he had zero interest in just because it fit into his schedule. 

Alternatively, it might have been the best idea he’d ever had. He had a feeling that it was going to be an easy A, which was nice considering he had a couple of heavier classes this semester. Professor Lily seemed like she’d at least be funny to watch, if a little longwinded at times. Also, he was pretty sure he’d read on the syllabus that they’d be watching a few movies. 

Sokka drummed his fingers on his knee. His eyes slid across the room, unbidden, to the boy with the scar. Sokka hadn’t attempted to speak to him since he’d been shouted at in the parking lot, and the other guy seemed to have forgotten that Sokka had ever existed. 

He was hunched over a notebook, scribbling notes with an intensity that Sokka found amusing. Professor Lily hadn’t said a single thing warranting a second thought, yet the guy seemed to be religiously writing every word she said. Sokka passed his gaze over the hair in a neat bun, the long fingers wrapped around what looked like an _honest to god fountain pen_ , the smooth lines of his red silk shirt. He looked so elegant sitting there, much more so than the other students sprawled around them in varying states of consciousness. 

Apparently he was cute _and_ had his life put together. Sokka poked a finger in one of the holes in the bottom of his shoe and resisted the urge to sigh. It was probably best for everyone that the guy wanted nothing to do with him.

Sokka let his attention wander again to his schedule for the rest of the day. He had another class after this, and then he’d told Mongke he’d run a few errands for him to make a little extra cash. After that he had to pick up Katara from school, and at some point he had to stop at the store, because he’d used up all of the milk for Katara’s cereal… 

The boy flipped a page in his notebook, startling Sokka out of his thoughts. Sokka blinked and straightened up in his chair, realizing he’d just been staring. He quickly turned his attention back to Professor Lily at the front of the room and tried to ignore his burning face.

“Alright, everyone.” Professor Lily clapped her hands together and got to her feet. “I can wax poetic about the ancient Greeks for hours, but the best way that you will learn is through demonstration. That is why, for our very first assignment, I will be putting you into pairs to research and perform a scene from one of the Greek plays we’ve discussed.”

A girl behind Sokka groaned. Sokka stared at Professor Lily, aware that his expression probably wasn’t very respectful at the moment. His advisor had told him that he’d be learning about plays in Intro to Theatre, not actually _performing_ them. 

“For this first assignment, and to ensure that there is some mingling done between us, I have already decided on your pairings.” Professor Lily pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and unfolded it, smiling at them all over the top of it. “When I read your name, please raise your hand and identify your partner. Alright- Megan? You will be paired with Raashi. Jonathan, where are you?”

Sokka reached up to tug on his earring, waiting uncomfortably. Around him his classmates were raising their hands and nodding at one another when they identified their partner. Sokka waited, half-hoping he had jumped into the class too late to even be on the stupid list, when-

“Sokka?” Sokka bit back a sigh and raised his hand, slouching lower in his seat. Professor Lily glanced up at him, and said, “Yes, there you are. You will be working with Zuko.”

Sokka looked around the room. No one raised their hand.

“Uh- Zuko?” Professor Lily peeked down at her list again, then up at the class. “Are you here today?” 

Another few seconds passed. Then, slowly, a pale hand raised itself into the air, and Sokka had to repress the instinctual urge to find the nearest window and jump out of it.

“Oh, good,” Professor Lily said, pointing her pen first at the boy with the scar, then Sokka. “You two will be paired together. Now where’s Macy?” 

Sokka stared at the boy, who was resolutely facing the front of the room. His expression was blank but there were spots of red in his cheek. He was frowning very intently at Professor Lily, notebook forgotten in his lap.

“We will begin presentations two weeks from today,” Professor Lily said as class wrapped up. Raising her voice over the shuffling sounds of students gathering their things, she continued, “I’ve posted the rubric and instructions on our class page. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to come to me. Have a nice day, everyone.”

Sokka got to his feet. Around him his classmates were all seeking out their partners, exchanging contact information and chatting about what scenes they wanted to cover. Sokka bent down to pick up his bag, took a breath to brace himself, then looked up to where the boy with the scar had been sitting-

Only to find an empty seat. The classroom door shut just as Sokka glanced over at it, and he sighed out loud.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, shouldering his bag and slipping past his classmates to get to the door.

It was déjà vu of the first day of class. Sokka chased the boy’s retreating red shirt all the way down the empty hall and out the side door leading to the parking lot, shoving his way out into the sunshine and glaring out at the rows of parked cars.

“Hey,” Sokka called, stomping towards the boy. This time he didn’t stop to wait for Sokka, but continued walking to his car, pausing only to fish his keys out of his pocket. “Hey!”

The boy turned to scowl at him. He looked far less attractive when he was pulling such an awful face, which made it easier for Sokka to be annoyed at him. “What?” he snapped.

“Uh, I don’t know if you heard Ms. Frizzle back there,” Sokka said, “but I think we have a project we need to figure out.” 

The boy unlocked his car and opened the door. For a second Sokka thought he was seriously about to get in and drive off, but all he did was toss his bag into the front seat and then turn back to glare even harder at Sokka. 

Sokka felt a little bit of that familiar guilt crawling into his throat. He raised his hands in a sign of surrender and said, “Look, I know, okay? I’m sorry you got stuck with me. If it’s too shitty, I can go back to Professor Lily and ask for a new partner.”

The guy crossed his arms and regarded Sokka for a moment, clearly considering it. Then he huffed, glare softening into a grimace.

“No,” he said. “It’s… fine, I guess.”

It certainly didn’t seem like it was fine, but Sokka wasn’t about to say that. Instead he tried to look as non-threatening as possible and said, “Okay, cool. So, um- your name is Zuko?”

“I’m free Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings,” Zuko said, “and some weekends if I’m given enough forewarning to incorporate it into my schedule. Which day is best for you?”

“Uh,” Sokka said, “what?”

“To practice our scene,” Zuko said impatiently. “When are you able to meet?” 

Sokka shook his head, trying to recover from conversational whiplash. “Do we have to do that? Can’t we just pick a play and memorize our parts?”

Zuko’s eyebrow crept upwards, and Sokka knew he’d said the wrong thing. “That’s not how you do _theatre,_ ” he said, sounding aghast.

Sokka groaned. “Dude, really? It’s just an intro class.” 

“And I am going to get an A in it,” Zuko snapped. “When can you meet?”

Sokka tried to remember if he had to take Katara anywhere that week, or if he’d taken any extra shifts at work that week. Fuck, he needed to start carrying a planner with him or something.

“Can I get back to you on that?” he asked. 

Zuko just stared at him, looking very unimpressed. Sokka couldn’t quite believe this was the same guy that he’d made out with, that he’d pressed against a wall and-

“Here.” Sokka opened his bag and started digging in it before his thoughts could stray too far into dangerous territory. He fished an old marker out and held his hand out towards Zuko, who was now regarding him as though Sokka was very unhinged.

“Give me your hand _,_ ” Sokka said, waggling his fingers.

After a moment Zuko slowly reached his hand out. Sokka took his wrist and pulled the top off of the marker with his teeth, tilting his head to look down at Zuko’s hand. He scribbled his number on the back of it, trying to ignore the way Zuko’s wrist felt in his fingers, or how smooth his skin was.

“There,” he said around the marker cap in his mouth. He dropped Zuko’s hand and grabbed it, slipping it back onto the marker. 

Zuko was staring down at his hand. He blinked at it, then looked up at Sokka, expression unreadable.

“I could have just put it straight into my phone,” he pointed out.

Sokka rolled his eyes. “It’ll wash off. Just- shoot me a text so I have your number, too, and I’ll send you some times I’m free to meet.” 

Zuko dropped his hand, brow furrowing. “I don’t like to procrastinate on my assignments.” 

“Well, Zuko,” Sokka said, tugging his bag more securely over his shoulder and grinning. “We are going to make an absolutely _horrible_ pair, then.”

He turned and walked away, leaving Zuko standing there staring after him. After a few seconds Sokka heard a door slam shut with far too much force. He kept walking and didn’t look back even as he heard the sound of a car peeling out of the lot much faster than it should have. 

Only once he was sure Zuko was gone did Sokka press his hands to his face and groan loudly. 

Couldn’t anything in his life be simple?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zuko would only say it on very, _very_ special occasions, but he was actually quite proud of the work his uncle had done on the Jasmine Dragon. What had started out as a small, cramped tea shop with only a few dedicated customers to keep it afloat had turned into a bustling business that sometimes got so busy Iroh hardly had a moment to spare for a visit. Zuko liked those days because he knew his uncle liked them. Privately, however, he would always prefer the slower days where the shop was empty, and Iroh had time to come and sit with Zuko and whoever else had accompanied him.

Today was one of the latter kinds of days. A few regulars were scattered about the space, sipping tea from one of Iroh’s mismatched sets and speaking in low voices. Zuko was seated at one of the larger tables with Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee. He could hear his uncle moving around behind him, chatting away with whatever customer or employee had caught his attention at the moment.

Zuko sipped at his tea as he listened to Ty Lee explaining some aspect of her yoga class that went right over Zuko’s head. His uncle had given him a new blend that day, and it was actually very good. It was a dark tea, but still sweet. Sitting here with his friends and family, drinking tea and simply listening, was very relaxing. Zuko was, for once, actually enjoying himself.

“Zuko, what on earth is on your hand?” Azula asked, interrupting Ty Lee’s speech about proper poses or whatever. 

Correction- Zuko had previously been enjoying himself.

“Nothing,” he said, twisting his hand so they wouldn’t be able to see the black marker. He’d tried his best to scrub it off in the car, but whatever marker the guy had used must have been permanent. 

“Looks like a phone number,” Mai said. Zuko glared at her, and she shrugged. 

“Oh, Zuko, who’s the lucky guy?” Ty Lee asked, resting her chin in her hands and grinning at him. 

“It’s just a classmate. We have to do an assignment together.”

“Group projects,” Azula said, wrinkling her nose. “Ugh.”

“Is it a _cute_ classmate?” Ty Lee waggled her eyebrows at him. 

Zuko grit his teeth. “No,” he lied. 

“Boring,” Mai said. 

“Speaking of boring,” Azula said, leaning in towards Mai. Her sharp eyes flashed with mischief as she grinned. “Why haven’t we heard anything about your little blind friend?”

“I thought that was ableist,” Zuko said. Azula flapped a hand as though to shush him. 

Mai took a long sip of her tea, then lowered her cup to the table. “Because there isn’t anything to tell.” 

“Aw,” Ty Lee said. “So you’re not going to see her again?”

“Actually,” Mai said with a bored sigh, “I’m seeing her in a few minutes. She’s stopping by the shop and we’re going to go on a walk.”

“What?” Ty Lee asked, so loudly that Jeong Jeong over at the Pai Sho table turned in his seat to glare at her. “Oh my gosh, why didn’t you say anything? Does my hair look alright?”

“She’s blind, Ty Lee,” said Zuko.

“Ableist,” said Azula. Zuko tried to kick her under the table, glaring when he hit nothing but air and his sister simply smirked at him. 

“I feel like I need to remind you that none of you are joining us on our walk,” said Mai. 

“Yes, but this is important, Mai,” said Ty Lee. She was still trying to fluff up her braid, brow furrowed with worry. “You haven’t introduced us to someone you were dating in _ages_. Do you think she’ll want tea?”

“If she does, she can fetch it herself.” Azula reached out to touch Ty Lee’s hand, gently lowering it from her hair. “You look _fine,_ Ty.”

“But-”

The bell over the front door jangled. Zuko looked over to see a girl standing in the open doorway. Mai stood up, shooting one last warning look around the table as she rounded it to cross the room. 

“This’ll be fun,” said Azula.

“Be nice, babe,” said Ty Lee.

The girl was holding a long white cane, but as Mai approached she lifted it off the ground and let it dangle. Zuko watched as Mai offered her arm to the girl, who took it and allowed Mai to guide her over to the table. 

“Everyone,” Mai said when they’d reached the table again, “this is Toph. Toph, this is everyone- my roommates Azula and Ty Lee, and Zuko.”

Toph was a pretty girl with wispy bangs that hung low over white, clouded eyes. Her gaze settled somewhere between Zuko and Ty Lee as she grinned, tilting her head to the side slightly. 

“Wow,” she said. “I see where Mai gets her good looks.”

To Zuko’s surprise, Azula actually snorted at that. 

“Hi, Toph,” Ty Lee said brightly. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

Toph leaned in closer to Mai and said in a loud whisper, “I’m guessing that one’s Ty Lee?” 

“Good guess,” said Mai. She wasn’t smiling, but her expression was softer than Zuko had seen it in years as she looked at Toph. Zuko felt something settle in his chest as he looked at the way Mai brought her free hand up to curl it around Toph’s, twining their fingers together. It wasn’t that Zuko didn’t trust Mai’s judgment, but it was always nice to see for himself that his friends were dating seemingly normal people. Not that he’d really had to worry about that before, since Azula and Ty Lee were dating each other.

Actually, maybe Zuko should be a little concerned for Ty Lee. 

“Would you like some tea, Toph?” Azula asked. She was staring at Toph with narrowed eyes, appraising her quietly. “It’s our uncle’s shop, you know.”

“I would,” said Toph, “but I’m kind of on a tight schedge. I promised I’d hang out with my friend’s little sister later.” She pulled a face. “I promise it’s a lot cooler than it sounds.” 

“We’re going to leave now,” Mai said.

Azula shot a look at Zuko, who rolled his eyes but said, “It was nice to meet you, Toph.”

Toph raised her eyebrows in his direction. “Oh, nice voice,” she said appreciatively. “Very raspy and mysterious. I like it.”

“I’ll see you all back at the apartment later,” Mai said as Zuko’s face burned. 

Toph lifted her cane to waggle her fingers at them as she and Mai turned away. They walked arm in arm to the front door, disappearing to the sound of tinkling bells.

“Aw, she seems nice,” said Ty Lee with a smile.

Zuko glanced at his sister, who was staring at the closed front door with a furrowed brow. “Azula?” he asked cautiously. 

“I cannot believe,” Azula said, “that she complimented _your_ voice instead of mine.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. Ty Lee leaned over to grab Azula’s arm and say, “Aw, babe, your voice is amazing!”

“I know,” Azula said, covering Ty Lee’s hand with her own and sighing heavily.

“Nope, I can’t do this,” said Zuko. He set his teacup down and stood up. “I’m going to go find Iroh.”

“I sound far more mysterious than he does,” Azula complained as Zuko walked away in search of his uncle. 

He found him standing over a group of elderly women who were all giggling at something he said. As Zuko approached Iroh turned, smile brightening.

“Ah, there’s my dear nephew,” he said, spreading his arms wide to greet him. Then his eyes dropped down, and his eyebrows shot up. “Is that a phone number on your hand?”

Zuko turned away from the renewed giggles at the table, glaring hotly as he stomped away. 

Apparently he would have to go back to his own fucking apartment today if he didn’t want to be bothered. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The mall was Sokka’s least favorite place in the entire world. 

Once upon a time he had genuinely enjoyed going, but once you had to use your own money to pay for things it got substantially less fun. The only reason he still bothered going now was because Katara enjoyed it, and because he’d learned early on that the best way to shop for a little girl was to have all the stores you needed in one place. 

After a full morning of searching and carefully steering Katara away from the more expensive stores, Sokka had finally managed to find a raincoat that Katara loved that hadn’t completely depleted his savings. The plastic bag in his hand still felt like it was filled with weights instead of a shiny yellow coat, but Katara was grasping his other hand and beaming up at him, so Sokka couldn’t make himself feel too bad about the purchase.

“Can we get food?” Katara asked, tugging on Sokka’s fingers and watching an Auntie Anne’s stand pass by with wide eyes.

“We’ve got food at home, Katara,” said Sokka. 

“But it smells so good,” Katara said, tipping her head back and sniffing the air.

“You know what else smells good?” Sokka asked, swinging their joined hands back and forth. “That box of Pop-tarts I bought for you yesterday.”

Katara pulled a face. “I don’t _want_ Pop-tarts,” she said. Her eyes caught on the bag in Sokka’s hand, and she grinned. “Can I see my coat again?”

Sokka chuckled and obligingly tilted the bag so she could peer inside. Katara stuck her head close to the bag to look, then pulled back and said excitedly, “Ainsley is going to be sooo jealous! Yellow is so much prettier than red.”

“As long as it keeps you dry, I don’t care what color it is,” said Sokka. “I can’t have my little sister turning into a fish in all that rain, now can I?” 

“I wouldn’t turn into a fish, I would turn into a mermaid,” said Katara matter-of-factly.

“Oh, of course,” Sokka said. “My mistake.”

“Like the little mermaid.” Katara tugged on Sokka’s hand. “Sokka, you know what would make Ainsley _really_ jealous? If I had a pair of boots to match my coat!” 

Sokka felt his stomach drop. He smiled down at Katara and said, “You don’t need new rain boots, kitty cat. You’ve already got a pair, remember?”

“Yeah, but they’re so old,” Katara said. “I want yellow ones, like my new coat!”

“Maybe you’ll get a new pair for Christmas.”

“No,” Katara said, face twisting into a frown. “All the rain’ll be gone by then. I need a new pair for when I go to school tomorrow. Please, Sokka?” 

Sokka shifted his gaze, unable to meet Katara’s pleading eyes. “Another time, Katara.”

“But there’s a shoe store right there!” 

Katara pulled on Sokka’s hand, trying to get him to follow her to the store. Sokka sighed, keeping his feet planted firmly where they were, and said, “Katara-”

“I need new boots, Sokka, please,” Katara said. She tugged Sokka’s hand even harder. “Please, Sokka, pretty please with-”

“I said no!”

Katara froze. She stared up at Sokka with wide eyes, still gripping his fingers tightly. Sokka’s breath caught in his throat when he’d realized what he’d done, and he quickly glanced around to make sure no one was watching.

“Katara,” he said. She was still looking at him, holding herself very still. Her bottom lip was trembling as she watched him struggle for words.

Sokka crouched down to meet her gaze. He could feel that same guilt he’d been feeling all week crawl into his chest, slip between the gaps of his ribcage to wrap around his lungs and squeeze until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He felt sick to his stomach with himself. How dare he shout at Katara- it wasn’t _her_ fault that Sokka couldn’t even afford to buy her a pair of fucking _rain boots_.

“I’m sorry,” Sokka said quietly. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

Katara sniffed. “It’s okay,” she said, her eyes suddenly very wet. “I don’t need the boots.”

That guilt nestled in just a little deeper, sinking its claws into his heart. He raised his free hand, the one Katara wasn’t gripping like a lifeline, and brushed the bangs out of her eyes. “I’ll get you those boots soon,” he said. “I promise.”

“It’s okay,” Katara repeated. “I don’t need them.”

Sokka swallowed. He stood up, squeezing Katara’s fingers tight. The bag in his hand was dead weight. 

“Hey,” he said, trying to smile at her. “Why don’t we go grab one of those pretzels?”

“I don’t need a pretzel, Sokka.” 

The guilt _squeezed_. 

“But they smelled so good,” Sokka said. He started tugging Katara gently in the direction they had come, back towards the Auntie Anne’s stand. “C’mon, Katara, don’t be such a stick in the mud.” 

Katara giggled a little at that. Sokka swooped down to pick her up, balancing her in his arms as they approached the stand, where there was thankfully no line. 

“Do you want salty or cinnamon sugar, Katara?” Sokka asked, hefting her more securely on his hip.

Katara peered intently at the pretzels in the glass case, then smiled at the boy behind the counter. “Two cinnamon pretzels, please,” she said.

“Uh, just one,” said Sokka with a glance at the prices on the menu. 

“But Sokka,” Katara said, drawing his attention back to her. She was frowning. “You didn’t eat anything for breakfast.”

Sokka blinked. He hadn’t thought Katara had noticed that.

“I’m not hungry,” he said. He squeezed her reassuringly with one arm, carefully pulling out his wallet and handing over a few bills to the cashier. He slipped the change back into his pocket as the cashier wrapped up a pretzel and handed it to Katara. 

Sokka set Katara down so she could walk on her own and eat her pretzel on their way out. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she peeled the paper back and sniffed the pretzel, clearly delighted with it.

“Good?” Sokka asked after she’d taken a few bites.

Katara nodded, chewing happily. She swallowed and then ripped off a large chunk of her pretzel. “Try some,” she said, holding it up to Sokka.

“Aw, kitty cat,” Sokka said, passing a hand over her hair. “That’s your pretzel. You enjoy it.” 

“It is my pretzel,” Katara said, “and I want you to share it with me.”

Sokka sighed. “Katara-”

“I’ll throw it in the street if you don’t eat it.”

Despite himself, Sokka smiled. He took the piece of pretzel from Katara. “You know,” he said, “you can’t keep threatening to throw things into oncoming traffic to get your way.”

“It works with you,” Katara said, grinning up at him. 

It was alarming how simultaneously cute and manipulative she could be.

Sokka turned the pretzel over in his fingers, and when he noticed Katara watching him closely he took a bite. It was warm and sweet, and probably very good, but it tasted like cardboard in Sokka’s mouth. He ate all of it to make Katara happy and gently turned her down when she tried to give him more. Thankfully, she didn’t push it this time. 

They walked home in relative silence, quietly enjoying the nice weather. Halfway there Katara slipped her hand back into Sokka’s. Sokka tightened his fingers around hers, squeezing, and tried to ignore the few bites of pretzel he’d taken sitting like rocks in his stomach.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zuko found Sokka at one of the tables in the corner of the library. He was already slouched over in his seat, peering down at his phone. It looked like he hadn’t brought any supplies with him, not a laptop, not a notebook and pen, not even his textbook. His messenger bag was lying by his feet, but it looked flat and empty. 

Zuko shouldered his own bag more securely and bit down on his irritation. He hated group projects. He always ended up with slackers. 

“We’re doing Alcestis,” he announced as he dropped into the seat across from Sokka, who looked up at him, startled.

“Bless you,” he said. 

Zuko rolled his eyes. “It’s a play,” he said. “Alcestis by Euripides. I’m willing to bet half the class will be doing something from Oedipus Rex and the other half will be doing Antigone, so this will set us apart.” Zuko pulled his bag up to set it at the table and flipped it open, trying to ignore Sokka’s gaze on him. He grabbed the book he’d gone out to purchase yesterday, which was peppered with multicolored sticky notes. “I went through a copy and found every two-person scene. The rubric said it needs to be at least three minutes, so all of the green sticky notes are viable options.”

Sokka picked up the book and turned it over in his hands, looking at it like he’d never even heard of the concept of reading before. “You’ve done a lot of work already,” he said, flipping through the pages.

Zuko pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth, took a moment, then said, “I want to get a good grade. The rubric also says we have to give a brief presentation on the history of the play and its author. Don’t worry about that, I can do it.”

“Hang on,” Sokka said. He set the book back down at the table and frowned at Zuko. “I can do some of the work too, you know.”

“Can you?” Zuko asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Yes I can,” Sokka said with a glare. He was wearing his hair back in that stupid little ponytail again, but at least he was wearing a hoodie that covered his arms. Zuko could really do without any distractions today. 

“I know all about, uh, asbestos.” Sokka picked up the book again and opened it, brow furrowing as he looked over one of the pages.

Zuko raised his eyes to the ceiling, realizing with a dawning horror that this might be worse than he thought. “I’m going to get a B,” he said, mostly to himself.

“God, you’re perfect for this class. You are _so_ overdramatic.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Zuko said. “We need to pick our scene, assign parts, and start practicing. Now, as far as casting goes, do you prefer-”

Sokka’s phone buzzed, loud against the wooden table. He picked it up and glanced at the screen, a frown slowly growing on his face. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, pushing his chair back. “I need to take this real quick.”

Zuko stared at him. “Are you _kidding_ me?” he asked. This was the exact trick Sokka had used to get away from him at the party, and now he was, what- trying to get out of doing any work? 

“I know, I know,” Sokka said, getting to his feet. The look he shot at Zuko was a pretty good approximation of an apology. “I swear it’s important. It’ll take like two minutes.”

Zuko crossed his arms and sat back in his seat to watch as Sokka pressed the phone to his ear and wandered away. He didn’t go far, but stepped slightly into the relative privacy of one of the aisles of books near them. He was talking in a low enough voice that Zuko couldn’t hear him, so Zuko picked the book back up and started searching for his favorite scenes so he could present them to Sokka when he got back.

It took Sokka less than a minute to return. He didn’t sit down, but instead crouched down to pick up his messenger bag, his mouth twisted into a grimace.

“First of all, I know I’m literally the worst person on the face of the planet,” he said. He shouldered his bag. “I’m so sorry, but I need to get going.”

Zuko’s grip on the book tightened. “You said you could meet at this time.”

“I know, but something came up. Listen, I’ll text you, we’ll reschedule-”

“We have to perform in a week and we haven’t even picked our scene yet!” 

“Just text me a character and tell me what pages to memorize,” said Sokka. He twirled his wrist in the air and said, “I can be, uh, Antigone.” 

“We’re doing Alcestis _,_ ” Zuko snapped. 

“Fine, then I’ll be that guy! Just-” Sokka began backing away, gripping the strap of his bag tight with both hands. “I’m so sorry.”

He turned and left before Zuko could say anything else. Zuko stared after him with his mouth open, trying to process what had just happened.

Had Sokka just ditched him _again_? 

“Unbelievable.” Zuko stood up, shoving the book back into his bag and standing up. He was too angry to try and pick a scene at this point. All he wanted to do was find Sokka again so he could throw the stupid book at his stupid head. 

For the first time in his life, Zuko left a library upset. He’d have to cool off a little bit before he sat down and tried to figure out how to perform a two-person scene all by himself.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sokka was nearly sprinting by the time he reached the nurse’s office, shoes slapping loudly against the tiled floor. He burst into the small room, looking around at the nurse sitting at a computer, the rows of chairs and the lone cot in the corner, until-

“Katara.” Sokka rushed over and dropped to one knee in front of her, reaching a hand out to press to her cheek, then her forehead to check for heat. “Are you alright?”

“She’s okay,” the nurse said when Katara just looked at him miserably. “She threw up in class.”

“What?” Sokka’s hand moved to cup her jaw, to gently run his thumb over her cheek. “Is she okay? Is she sick?”

“My tummy feels funny,” Katara said.

“She just has an upset stomach,” said the nurse. “No fever or anything else. It was probably just something she ate.”

“Okay,” Sokka said, thinking back quickly to everything Katara had eaten that day. He’d packed her a peanut butter sandwich for lunch, and she’d had cereal for breakfast- maybe the milk had been expired? How often was he supposed to check that? 

“She just needs to go home and get some rest,” said the nurse. 

“Okay,” Sokka said. He stood up. “Do I need to check her out or anything?” 

The nurse had Sokka sign his name on a clipboard. He pulled on Katara’s backpack and picked her up; she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight as he walked her out of the nurse’s office. 

“How are you feeling, kitty cat?” Sokka asked when they’d left the school and were walking down the sidewalk in the direction of home. 

“Okay,” Katara said. She seemed to have no intention of letting Sokka put her down, which was totally fine with Sokka. He gripped her closer as he walked, quickening his steps so they’d get back faster. 

Katara was sniffling by the time they reached the apartment. Sokka dug through his pocket for his keys, holding Katara tightly so as not to drop her, and slipped through the gate. He mounted the stairs two at a time, legs straining under the weight of his sister and her backpack, and when he reached the front door he unlocked that as quickly as possible.

“Alright,” Sokka said, dropping his keys on the counter as he passed. “Welcome to hospital de Sokka.”

Katara giggled as Sokka walked over to the couch and set her down. Sokka grabbed a stray blanket and shook it out, draping it over her.

“Tummy update?” Sokka asked, crouching in front of Katara to peer closely at her.

“It feels better,” said Katara. She didn’t _look_ sick anymore, just tired. She snuggled back against the cushions, drawing the blanket tighter around her.

“Do you think you could eat some chicken noodle soup if I made it?” Katara nodded, and Sokka reached out to squeeze her shoulder. “Okay. Let’s turn on some tv.”

“I never finished Moana,” Katara said hopefully as Sokka grabbed the remote and hit the power button.

“Alright,” Sokka said, “but we’ll have to start it from the beginning so I can watch it, too.” He returned Katara’s smile, switching to the right input for the DVD player, and hit play on the movie. 

Sokka went into the kitchen, pulling open the cupboards and digging through for a can of soup. He poured it into a bowl and popped it into the microwave. While he waited he pulled out his phone, glancing at his messages. He had a few from Suki and Toph, which he skimmed with a small smile and a shake of his head.

He also had one from Zuko from only a few minutes ago- _We’re doing the Thanatos scene. I’ll give you the pages tomorrow._

Sokka winced. He typed out a quick response- _Okay. Sorry again that I had to leave_ \- and waited, but received nothing else in return. Sokka sighed as the microwave beeped, putting his phone away.

“Here we go,” Sokka said, walking the bowl over with a pile of napkins and a glass of ice water. “Five-star chicken noodle coming through.”

Katara sat up straighter, sticking her hands out from under the blanket. Sokka paused and raised his eyebrows at her. “Oh, did _you_ want this soup? I made it for me.”

“Sokka,” Katara complained. Sokka chuckled and carefully handed the soup to her. 

“Don’t spill,” he said. He set the glass of water down on the coffee table and then lifted the corner of the blanket up to slide in next to his sister, careful not to jar her soup. Katara readjusted, holding the bowl in her lap and pressing against Sokka’s side. Sokka obligingly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. 

“Thank you, Sokka,” Katara said, stirring her soup.

“‘Course, kitty cat.”

“Thank you for coming to get me.”

Sokka brought his hand up to stroke through Katara’s hair, pulling away far enough to look at her. “Hey,” he said, drawing her gaze away from the television and back to him. “I will always come and get you when you need me to, you got that? I love you.”

Katara smiled at him, toothy and bright. “I love you more.” 

“Impossible,” said Sokka. He squeezed her again and looked back at the television. “Okay, so which one turns into a mermaid?”

“None of them, Sokka, that’s a different movie.”

“But _someone_ has to turn into a mermaid.”

“Nooo,” Katara whined. Sokka chuckled, pulled the blanket more securely around her, and settled in for an evening of nothing but Disney movies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you all so much for the response to the first chapter, and thank you for all the well wishes! I'm feeling much better, but I've had a lot of time to write so I have quite a few chapters lined up, so I thought I'd go ahead and give you all another :) I hope you're having an amazing day and taking care of yourselves <3


	3. long story short

“Do you want some kimchi?” Zuko asked, sliding the bowl across to Mai. 

Mai glanced at it, looking disinterested, and said, “Too spicy.”

“You asked me to take you to a Korean barbecue restaurant,” Zuko said, “and you’re complaining the food is too _spicy_?”

“The kimchi is too spicy.”

“You’re eating spicy beef!” 

“Would you stop trying to start arguments?” Mai snapped. “At this rate I’ll just go join Ty Lee and Azula for date night.” 

Zuko dropped his chopsticks with a clatter. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess I’m still in a bad mood.”

“You’re always in a bad mood.” Mai poked at her rice. “Is it that group project?”

“He hasn’t responded to any of my texts,” Zuko said. “We have to perform in front of the entire class in two days and we haven’t practiced at all. I don’t know if he’s even looked at the pages I gave him.”

“Talk to your professor,” Mai said. 

“I will if our presentation is a disaster. You know, I’m kind of hoping he doesn’t even show up to class on Thursday. It would certainly be in character for him.” 

“This is really the guy you hooked up with at that party a few weeks ago?” Mai asked.

Zuko picked up his chopsticks again and took a bite of his chicken, chewing dejectedly. It was actually really good food; Mai was good at finding restaurants for them to try, and especially enjoyed little places like this that Zuko would typically overlook. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Don’t ask me why. I was drunk. I didn’t know he was such a flake.” 

“A hot flake.”

“I don’t care how hot he is,” Zuko said. “He’s a dick.”

Mai plucked up a bite of rice with her chopsticks and ate it. 

“How’s Toph?” Zuko asked.

“She’s fine.”

“She seemed nice,” said Zuko. 

Mai set her chopsticks down and took a sip of water. She lowered her glass, hesitated a moment, then said, “I like her.” Then she glared at Zuko as though daring him to make fun of her. 

“I’m glad,” Zuko said, smiling a little. “Does this mean I’m going to be ditched on our anti-date nights?” 

“Just because I’m seeing someone doesn’t mean I don’t like Korean barbecue anymore.”

Zuko laughed. 

The restaurant was a tiny place, narrow and crammed full of tables and chairs. It was loud enough that they could hear pots and pans clattering in the kitchen, the shouts of the cooks on the line. It smelled delicious, like spices and the sweet sticky sauce on Zuko’s chicken. They’d definitely have to come back here again.

Zuko chewed his chicken, glancing around at the other tables around him- and then his gaze caught on a lone figure weaving between the tables, headed for the door. 

“Oh, absolutely not,” he said. He set his chopsticks down and stood up, shoving his chair back.

“What is it, Zuko?” Mai asked.

“I’ll be right back,” Zuko said over his shoulder, shoving his way past a group of girls who were trying to find an empty table. He glared hotly at the back of the head he was following and when he was close enough he called out, “Hey!”

Sokka turned, looking surprised. He was wearing that same blue muscle tank, bag thrown over his shoulder like usual.

“Oh, hey, Zuko,” he said.

“What the hell?” Zuko asked, stepping up to him and scowling. 

“Uh,” Sokka said. He glanced over his shoulder at the front door. “What?”

“You haven’t been responding to me!” 

“Oh,” Sokka said. The corners of his lips twitched up into an awkward grin. Zuko wanted to hit him. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve been a little busy.”

“Have you even looked at our scene?”

Zuko felt his fists clenching as Sokka’s grin got even more awkward. “I will tomorrow?” he said. 

“You are unbelievable,” Zuko said. He had to raise his voice to be heard over all the noise coming from the kitchen and the conversations around them. A few people scowled at him from their tables, but Zuko ignored them. “You know my grade fucking depends on this project? I understand that you have a super busy social life, but would it kill you to think about someone else for once in your fucking life?”

“Hey,” Sokka said, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t-”

“Yeah, I know you’re sorry,” Zuko said. “All you know how to fucking say is _sorry_! That isn’t going to cut it this time. I don’t care how many Korean barbecue dinner dates you have lined up tonight, you need to sit down and memorize your lines so I don’t-”

Sharp pain blossomed in Zuko’s shin. He immediately picked his leg up, hopping on one foot as he grabbed it, and snapped, “Ouch!”

“Stop yelling at him!” shouted a small voice.

Zuko blinked. He dropped his gaze to see a little girl standing there. She had to be no older than five or six, with dark hair tied back in a braid and shockingly blue eyes. She was wearing a bright yellow raincoat, and probably would have been adorable if she hadn’t been glaring so fiercely up at Zuko.

“Katara!” Sokka bent down and grabbed the girl, hoisting her up in his arms. He frowned at her. “What did I tell you about kicking people?”

“He was shouting at you,” the little girl said. She twisted in Sokka’s grip to glare at Zuko and shouted, “It’s not nice to shout!” 

“Uh,” Zuko said, thoroughly confused as to what was happening. He realized he was still standing on one leg and quickly lowered the other one, wincing at the faint pain. 

“You need to apologize,” the little girl said, jabbing a finger at Zuko.

Zuko looked from her to Sokka, taking in the similar coloration, the slant to their eyes, the way the little girl’s fists were curled into the fabric of Sokka’s shirt.

Had Zuko been drinking tonight? 

“Sorry,” he said to Sokka, because he didn’t know what else to do. 

The front door open again and a girl rushed in, looking at them all with wide eyes. She had short brown hair and an athletic build, and currently looked pretty horrified.

“Suki, I thought you were waiting outside,” Sokka said, sounding exasperated. 

“Katara wanted to surprise you!” 

Katara was still looking at Zuko as though he’d just swooped in and punched everyone she loved in the face. 

“Next time,” Sokka said, “we’re going to _supervise_ surprises. Okay?” 

He handed Katara off to Suki, who took her with a surprising amount of ease. Katara went a little unwillingly, still glaring at Zuko.

“I’ll meet you both outside,” said Sokka. 

Suki glanced at Zuko curiously. “Alright,” she said. “C’mon, Katara, Sokka will be out in a second.”

“I don’t like you,” Katara said to Zuko. Zuko just stared as the glaring little girl was carried out of the restaurant, disappearing into the night.

“I,” Sokka said, drawing Zuko’s attention back to him, “am _so_ fucking sorry about her. Are you okay?”

“You have a kid?” Zuko asked, still trying to process what the fuck had just happened. 

Sokka’s eyes widened. “No,” he said. Then he paused a moment. “Well. Kind of. That’s my little sister. I’m, uh, her legal guardian, so I guess… I kind of do?” 

The tables around them, which had all been cued in very closely to the fight, seemed to be returning to their meals now that the excitement was gone. Zuko did his best to ignore them, still trying to reconcile the fact that Sokka- beautiful Sokka from the party, irresponsible Sokka from his class, the Sokka that had been consuming his thoughts for the past two weeks against his better judgment- had a _kid_. 

“I had to work a double shift today,” Sokka said, gesturing awkwardly at the restaurant’s counter, and of _course_ he worked there, he wasn’t wearing clothes for a dinner date at all. He even had what looked like a streak of sauce on his arm. “My friend Suki picked her up from school, she was just supposed to drop her off…” Sokka trailed off, then raised a hand to tug at his ponytail. “And you didn’t ask about any of that. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Zuko said. 

Sokka looked at him. His lips twisted down into a frown. He looked exhausted, Zuko realized suddenly. 

“That’s why I left the party early,” Sokka said. “She was having trouble sleeping. I’m sorry I forgot to say goodbye, she just- I just needed to go and check on her.”

“Oh,” Zuko said. He could feel his heart in his throat. He felt warm all over, and he couldn’t tell if it was the heat inside the restaurant or his own racing mind. 

“She was sick,” Sokka blurted out. He blinked, as though he hadn’t expected that to come out of his mouth, but then apparently decided to continue. “The other day, the call I got in the library- she threw up at school. I was panicking, that’s why I left.”

Zuko shook his head, trying to wrap his head around all of this. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sokka’s lips quirked back up in a tired grin. “You don’t need to hear about my problems.” 

Zuko exhaled. Sokka looked back over his shoulder at the front door, then turned back to Zuko and said, “Listen, I’m really sorry about the project. I swear I can have all my lines memorized in time. Are you free tomorrow afternoon to practice?”

“That’s, uh,” Zuko said, “don’t you have to-”

“She’ll be at school,” Sokka said. “What do you say? I’ll meet you at the library again?”

Zuko looked at Sokka, at his hopeful expression, and felt something horrible twisting in his stomach. “My uncle has a tea shop,” he said. “It’ll be more private if we practice there. I’ll text you the address.”

Sokka’s expression smoothed with relief. “Perfect,” he said. He pointed a finger gun at Zuko and said, “Achilles?”

“Alcestis.”

Sokka winced. “Right. Yeah- I swear I’ll have it down by tomorrow.” He turned to go, then paused and said, “Sorry again about my sister. You can, um,” he gestured vaguely at Zuko’s leg. “Send me the doctor’s bill.”

“It’s fine,” Zuko said. He could feel his shin pounding now, and knew he’d have a horrible bruise in the morning. “I’m, uh. I’m sorry for yelling. That was uncalled for.”

“No,” Sokka said, “it was totally called for.” He smiled hesitantly one last time. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Zuko.”

“Yeah,” Zuko said as Sokka turned and left.

Mai was staring at Zuko with raised eyebrows when he returned to their table. “Did you just get assaulted by a little girl?”

“Why didn’t you help me?” Zuko asked, scowling at her.

“You looked like you had it handled.”

Zuko dropped back into his seat, dropped his head down onto the table, and groaned loudly. “I’m an asshole, Mai.”

“We all know that,” said Mai. “What happened?”

Zuko lifted his head. “That was the guy.” When Mai continued to stare at him blankly, he said, “From theatre class.”

“The dick who left you at the party?”

“Yes,” Zuko said. “Except, apparently he’s not a dick. He’s got a kid, Mai.” When Mai’s eyes widened, he quickly said, “His sister.”

Mai sat back in her seat. “Their parents?”

“He said he was her legal guardian.”

“Shit,” said Mai.

“And, and,” Zuko said, unable to focus on any of the important parts of the interaction he’d just had. “He left me at the party because he needed to go check on her. Not because- and the library, it was because she was sick. And I _yelled_ at him for it.”

“You didn’t know he was taking care of his sister,” Mai said, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. 

“I was still such a jerk.” Zuko pressed his hands to his eyes, trying to ground himself. “Fuck.” 

“Hey, look at the bright side,” said Mai. Zuko lowered his hands to look at her with a frown. Mai raised an eyebrow and said, “It sounds like he didn’t mean to leave you at the party.”

Zuko couldn’t help the thrill that went through his chest. “That doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does.” 

Zuko sighed. He picked up his chopsticks again, glanced down at his half-eaten food, then set them back down. “What do you say we end anti-date night with some boba?” 

Mai grinned. She stood up, grabbing her black coat from the back of her chair. “You know, for a gay guy, you really know how to treat a lady.”

“For a lesbian, you really seem to enjoy getting treated by a guy.”

Mai snorted. “C’mon, asshole,” she said, nodding her head in the direction of the door. “We’re going to the good boba place.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The address Zuko had texted him sent him to a large tea shop in the better part of town. It was a bit of a walk for Sokka, and he half-jogged the second part of it because he was worried about being late. 

When he stepped inside a bell jangled overhead. He was immediately struck by the rich, sweet scent of tea leaves.

“Hello,” said a kind voice. Sokka looked up to see an old man approaching him with a pleasant smile. “Would you like me to show you to a table?”

“Uh,” Sokka said, glancing at the guy’s apron, which had ‘Jasmine Dragon’ embroidered on it in green stitching. “I’m actually looking for Zuko?”

The man pressed his hands together and beamed. “Ah, you must be his project partner! Come, he’s waiting for you right over here.”

Sokka followed the old guy across the room, looking around as he did. The Jasmine Dragon was a bright, open space with pale yellow walls covered in thick tapestries and artwork. Spacious tables were spread about, most unoccupied except for some kind of game board in the corner of the room where two old men sat playing. Gentle flute music was being piped in from somewhere. 

Zuko was seated at a table in the corner, laptop open in front of him. He looked up from the screen as they approached. 

“Sokka,” he said, closing the laptop. 

“Hi,” Sokka said. He dropped his bag down on the floor next to an empty chair.

“I’ll fetch you two some tea,” the old man said, bowing slightly towards them before walking away.

Sokka sat down. He drummed his fingers on his knee, glancing around. “Nice place.”

“Thanks,” Zuko said. “It’s my uncle’s. That was him.” 

“Cool.” Sokka tapped his foot a few times, then leaned down to open his bag. “I memorized all my lines,” he said, pulling out the crumpled photo copies of the scene Zuko had given him. He’d stayed up all night making sure that he had the entire scene down. 

“Great,” said Zuko. “So did I. I also put together a brief presentation on the history of the play.”

“Do you need any help with that?”

“No,” Zuko said. He hesitated, then lifted his lips into an awkward smile. Sokka felt his heart jump; that was exactly the expression Zuko had given him at the party, back before Sokka had fucked everything up. “It’s alright.”

Zuko’s uncle returned to their table, this time carrying a tray. He set a teapot down in the center of the table, then two cups, and two plates with a muffin each. “Some sustenance for our academics.”

“Thank you,” Sokka said, glancing warily at the food and drink. A place like this couldn’t be cheap. 

The man bowed again. “If you need an audience, let me know,” he said. “Until then, I shall leave you alone.”

“Thanks, Uncle,” said Zuko as he left. 

“So what do we do first?” Sokka asked as Zuko stood up to grab the teapot. “Just say our lines?”

“We can run through the scene,” Zuko said. He poured a measure of tea into the cup in front of Sokka, and then into his own, his movements graceful and practiced. He’d dressed down from what he usually wore to class in a black turtleneck sweater and white trousers. Sokka tugged at the hem of his own t-shirt, wondering how he managed to look like a model all the time. “The rubric didn’t say anything about blocking, so I assume we don’t need to choreograph anything.”

“Are you a theatre student?” Sokka asked. He’d been curious about that for awhile; Zuko seemed to know what he was doing in the class, even though it was just introductory.

Zuko shook his head and lowered himself back into his seat. “Political science.”

“Oh. Sorry, you just seem to… know your shit.” 

Zuko raised his cup, looking a little embarrassed. “I used to do community theatre.” 

Oh, god, Sokka had always had a soft spot for dorks. “That’s so cool,” said Sokka.

“Not really,” said Zuko. He sipped his tea, then lowered it and said, “What do you study?” 

“Engineering.”

Zuko raised an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

Sokka shrugged, awkwardly shuffling the pages in front of him. “I need to get a good job,” he said. 

Zuko’s gaze dipped down briefly. Then he gestured at Sokka’s cup and said, “It’s jasmine. The house special.”

Sokka wasn’t the biggest fan of tea, but he didn’t want to be rude, so he reached out and grabbed it. He took a sip, letting the warm liquid settle on his tongue. 

“It’s good,” he said, even though it mostly just tasted like leaves.

Zuko nodded. “I hope your sister wasn’t too upset yesterday.”

“Oh, she’s fine,” Sokka said, waving a hand in the air. “I’m sorry again about the whole kicking thing. She had a phase a few years ago, but I thought she’d grown out of it.”

Zuko’s smile seemed a little strained. “How old is she?”

“Six.” Sokka leaned back in his seat, cupping his hands around the warm mug. He eyed Zuko, who suddenly looked uncomfortable. “You can ask questions, you know,” he said. Sokka had gotten good at spotting people who were curious about his business. 

Zuko ran a finger around the edge of his closed laptop. “I don’t want to be rude.”

“It’s fine,” Sokka said. He grinned. “I think I owe you a bit of an explanation, anyways.” He sipped his tea again, then said, “My dad was killed in action three years ago. Afghanistan. It’s been just me and Katara since then.”

Zuko was quiet for a moment. He looked at Sokka closely. “How old were you?”

“How old was I?” Sokka asked, surprised by the question. Most people heard his sob story and decided not to push it any further. “Nineteen.”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko said quietly. “That must have been difficult.”

Sokka’s grip tightened on the cup. “Oh, it’s fine,” he said. “We don’t have any other family, so it was either get my shit together to raise Katara, or-” Sokka swallowed, then cleared his throat. Memories rose unbidden to his mind, of friends and lawyers and child protective services all insisting that Sokka couldn’t handle it, that Katara would be better off with _strangers_ than with her own brother.

“It’s fine,” Sokka said. “She’s a really good kid when she isn’t kicking.”

Zuko’s smile seemed a little more genuine this time. “I’m sure she is.”

Sokka set his cup down on the table. “Listen,” he said. “I want to apologize again for leaving you at the party. That was… incredibly dickish of me.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Sokka said, desperate to make a proper apology now that everything was out on the table. “I don’t- I don’t want you to think that you did anything wrong. You didn’t, not at all. I just haven’t really gone out since my dad died, and it felt weird leaving Katara, so when I got the call- but it wasn’t you, I swear. You were… amazing.” 

Zuko ducked his head. For a moment Sokka was worried he’d said the wrong thing, until he saw that Zuko was smiling.

“You were pretty amazing, too,” he said.

Sokka met Zuko’s gaze, struck again by how interesting his face was. Sharp, angular features, the scar, the intensity in every expression- he looked almost too perfect, like if Sokka tried to touch him he’d find out he was just a statue he’d have to return to a museum. 

Sokka wasn’t really sure what to do with the feelings rolling around in his chest. He hadn’t been interested in anyone since high school, not since Yue, and whatever it was he was feeling as he looked at Zuko was kind of starting to freak him out. Sokka didn’t have time for that, and Zuko _definitely_ deserved far more than anything that Sokka could give him. Sokka could barely provide for his younger sister. Zuko didn’t need someone like that hanging around too closely.

Sokka picked up the pages, breaking the stare. “We should,” he said, “we should probably practice.”

Zuko blinked. He picked up the book lying next to his laptop. “Right,” he said, flipping it open. “You memorized for Apollo, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Zuko gestured at him. “Start us off, then,” he said with a smile. A painting, Sokka thought suddenly. Not a statue, but a breathing painting rippling with color. 

Sokka took a deep breath, carefully pushed all of his feelings to the very back of his mind, and began to read. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The sun was shining high in the sky, reflecting off the play equipment at the park. Sokka tilted his head back to catch the warmth and listened to the kids shouting and laughing as they ran circles around one another. It was a different kind of zen than he was used to, sitting here on the bench, knowing that his little sister was having the time of her life just a few feet away.

Something jabbed his ribs. Sokka lifted his head to scowl at Toph and said, “Toph, you’re ruining my zen!”

“I didn’t come to the park with you so you could reach enlightenment.” Toph glared at a point above his head. “If you don’t talk then it’s just me sitting here listening to a bunch of gremlins get their germs everywhere.”

Sokka rolled his eyes and glanced back out at the park, checking for Katara. She was sitting in the sand with Aang, a small boy with short black hair and a gap-toothed smile. Opposite the bright yellow slide Sokka could see Gyatso, Aang’s guardian, sitting on a bench with a book in his hand. 

“You offered to come,” Sokka pointed out.

“Yeah, and now I’m regretting it. C’mon,” Toph said, “we haven’t talked in forever. What’s new? I want to hear secrets.”

“I don’t have any secrets.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Toph threw her arms over the back of the bench and kicked one leg up on her knee, sprawling into Sokka’s personal space bubble. “Then why’d Suki tell me Katara had a WWE smackdown with a friend of yours at the Rough Rhino?” 

“Suki’s a filthy liar,” Sokka said. “You’d really believe her over your dear old friend Sokka?” 

“You forget who you’re talking to, dipshit.” 

Right. Toph had always had an uncanny ability to tell when people are lying. It had gotten Sokka into plenty of trouble in high school. 

“It was a guy from class,” Sokka said. He hesitated. For as much shit as Toph gave him, she did sometimes have good advice. Occasionally. “Actually…” 

“Yes, gimme the juicy shit,” Toph said with a grin.

Sokka might regret this. “He’s the guy I hooked up with at the party.”

“No way!” Toph shouted. Sokka winced and looked over at Katara and Aang, who had both poked their heads up to look at them. Sokka waved and received two big smiles and enthusiastic waves in return.

“Volume control, Toph,” Sokka hissed, ignoring the indignant looks of a few yoga moms power-walking past their bench. 

“Come on, Sokka, this is huge! He’s in one of your classes?”

“My theatre class,” Sokka said. “We’re partners for one of the stupid scenes we have to perform.”

“Romeo and Juliet? Sorry,” Toph said, shaking her head, “Romeo and Romeo?” 

Yeah, Sokka was already regretting this. “This is why I don’t talk to you,” he complained.

Toph chuckled. “Sorry, dork. So, what are you going to do about it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I _mean_ , are you going to make a move on him?”

Sokka squinted out at the playground. Katara and Aang had moved, and now looked as though they were trying to dig a hole. Great, they’d have to have a bath tonight. Katara always managed to get sand in her hair. “No,” he said. 

“Why?” 

“Because,” Sokka said. “I don’t have time for that.”

There was a pause, as Toph seemingly thought this over. Then she punched him in the shoulder. Hard.

“Ouch,” Sokka snapped, grabbing his arm and glaring at Toph. “What the fuck?”

“That’s not an excuse to not make a move!”

“It’s not an excuse, it’s reality,” Sokka said. “What am I supposed to do, hire a babysitter every time I want to go on a date?”

“You have me and Suki, dumbass.”

“And you two have your own lives. I can’t call you whenever I want a break from being Katara’s guardian, Toph.”

“Who said you have to take a break?” Toph asked.

“Not a lot of people want to date a guy with a kid.”

“I don’t see how you can know that without even asking the guy.” She twisted in her seat to face him, bangs swaying in the breeze. “Do you like him?” 

Even though he knew Toph couldn’t see him, Sokka couldn’t meet her gaze. He looked down at his hands and said, “Yes.”

“Then do something about it.”

“I can’t,” Sokka said, a little desperately.

“Why not?”

“Because-”

“If you try to give me another dumb excuse-”

“Because I’m not _enough_ , Toph!” Sokka swallowed back the sudden panic rising in his throat, and quickly looked back out to find Katara. He felt his heart settle a bit when he spotted her and Aang on the swing set, having abandoned their hole in the sand. 

“I can’t be enough,” he said, watching his sister tip her head back and laugh as she swung through the air. “I’m barely enough for Katara. There’s no way I could… I just can’t.” 

Toph was quiet. Sokka let the silence sit for a few moments before glancing at his friend. Toph was staring off at nothing, brow furrowed, lips twisted into a frown.

“What, no arguments?” Sokka joked weakly.

“Oh, plenty,” Toph said. “I’m going to need some time to put them together, though.”

Sokka sighed. “I appreciate it, Toph, really,” he said. “I’m fine, though. I’m busy enough with school and Katara and work. I don’t even want a relationship right now.”

Toph pursed her lips and didn’t respond. Sokka took this as a cue not to say anything else, lest she decided to hit him again, and they passed the rest of the afternoon mostly in silence until it was time to take Katara home. 

Sokka never did reach enlightenment, though he did try a few more times. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

On Thursday, Zuko and Sokka sat next to each other for the first time in class. 

Zuko watched the first few performers go with a critical eye. As he’d suspected, most of them had picked Oedipus Rex; several of the guys enacted the scene in which Oedipus gouged his eyes out in excruciating detail even though in the script it happened offstage. The rest barely had anything memorized, and stumbled over the language like they hadn’t actually read it through before going in front of the class. 

“We’ll be much better than any of them,” Zuko muttered to Sokka, who glanced at him with something like amusement.

“It’s just an assignment, Zuko,” he said. 

Zuko didn’t care about that. He hadn’t performed anything since he’d stopped doing theatre in high school, and even if he was technically just reading lines in front of a class full of students who didn’t care, he could already feel himself getting excited about it. 

He ran through his lines quickly in his head even though he was certain he had them memorized. At the front of the class two girls were literally _butchering_ Antigone, which was a little painful because that had always been his mother’s favorite classic. Zuko crossed his arms, watching them incredulously, and then looked over at Professor Lily, who was smiling and nodding along.

Whatever. All the better if she was an easy grader. 

A faint squeaking noise caught his attention. Zuko glanced over and then down at Sokka’s leg, which was bouncing up and down so quickly it was making his folding chair squeak. Without thinking Zuko reached out to touch his knee, which stilled immediately under his fingers.

Zuko met Sokka’s gaze. “Relax,” Zuko said quietly. 

“Right,” Sokka whispered. “Sorry.”

A few more seconds passed before Zuko realized he was still touching Sokka’s leg. He pulled his hand away and turned back to the front of the class.

When the girls finished Professor Lily stood up and lead a weak chorus of claps. “Brava,” she said, smiling as the girls returned to their seat. “My, Antigone is quite the popular play today! Alright, next up we’ll hear from Sokka and Zuko.”

Zuko got to his feet. Sokka followed a few moments later, trailing after Zuko to the front of the class.

Zuko turned around to look out at his peers, who stared back at him with blank expressions.

“We will be performing an excerpt from Alcestis by Euripides,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back. “Born in the 480s BCE, Euripides was the youngest of the great three tragedians of his time. Most of his biography is pieced together from jokes made about him in comedies, as it seems he did not partake in public life. Of his written plays, nineteen still endure today, including Alcestis.” 

Zuko glanced at Sokka, who was watching Zuko with a small smile. Zuko swallowed back a sudden wave of unfamiliar nerves and then looked back at the audience. 

“We’ll be reading from the first scene of the play, which takes place between the god Apollo and Death,” Zuko said. 

He looked to Sokka, who took a small, quiet breath before lifting his chin and beginning. 

“Dwelling of Admetus, wherein I, a God, deigned to accept the food of serfs-”

Zuko watched Sokka as he moved through the opening monologue. Just as had happened at the Jasmine Dragon, Zuko felt his face growing warmer and warmer the longer he spoke. He was pleasantly surprised at how quickly Sokka had memorized the lines, and _very_ impressed at how he was able to get through all of it without stumbling or tripping up. Zuko knew from experience how difficult the Greek plays could be, especially to someone who hadn’t performed before, but despite his earlier nerves Sokka seemed to inhabit the role of Apollo with ease. 

“Lawlessly would you grasp, abolish the rights of the lower gods,” Zuko said, cutting in swiftly when it was his turn. He met Sokka’s gaze, expression hardening in time with his words. 

Sokka’s lips lifted in a small grin. “Fear not,” he said. “I hold for right, and proffer you just words.”

“If you hold for right, why then your bow?” asked Zuko.

“My custom is ever to carry it,” Sokka said, smirk growing.

They went through the scene, the lines flowing between them like they’d been practicing for months. Sokka used the appropriate inflections for all of his lines, smug when he needed to be, harsh when the script called for it. 

He was good. And Zuko, who had grown up performing, who knew exactly how to focus on his lines and ignore outside distractions, found himself getting lost in Sokka’s words, by the shape of his lips when he spoke, by the fierceness and humor in his gaze. Zuko always recovered in time for his next line, but there were several close calls.

Fuck. That probably wasn’t a good sign. 

“Now must I go,” Zuko said, facing the class, “to consecrate her for the sacrifice with this sword; for once this blade has shorn the victim’s hair, then he is sacred to the lower gods.” 

Silence fell. Zuko took a slow breath, heart pounding, and glanced at Sokka. Sokka was already watching him with a broad smile, and as he met his gaze Zuko felt a matching one forming on his face. 

Professor Lily stood up, clapping her hands loudly. “Oh, bra _va_ ,” she said, approaching them both with a wild grin. “Now that,” she said, turning to the rest of the class, who was still looking at them all with bored expressions, “was theatre! That was wonderful, there was so much _chemistry_ between you two. Excellent job, excellent!”

Zuko felt his face burning. Sokka swept into a low, exaggerated bow, twirling his wrists with a flourish. When he straightened back up Zuko followed him to their seats. 

“Sounds like you got your A,” Sokka said quietly, dropping back into his chair as the next two students took their places at the front of the room.

“Yeah,” Zuko said. “Thanks. You were, uh, really good up there.”

“Oh, really,” Sokka said, waggling his eyebrows. “So you’re saying I can still make it as an actor?” 

“Don’t get too cocky,” said Zuko with a grin. 

At the front of the class two students were reading from Antigone again. They’d brought copies of the book up with them and were doing their best not to make it look like they were reading directly from the script. 

“I guess we do make a pretty good team,” Sokka said.

Zuko settled back in his seat, watching the girls stumble over their words. The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess we do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they were class partners (oh my god they were class partners)
> 
> Zuko knows about Katara now! Get ready for a lil break from the angst (just a break- I can't let them off the hook entirely, can I? ;) ) 
> 
> Thank you all for the amazing comments- it's so fun chatting with you all about the story. Just fyi I'm going to be pretty busy next week so it might be a little longer between updates, but I'll be back and ready to go in a week or so at the very least. I hope you all enjoyed this update, and I hope you have an amazing New Years. I hope 2021 treats you all well <3


	4. human nature

* * *

When Zuko wasn’t helping out at the law firm he interned at or working on his schoolwork, he spent most of his time at his younger sister’s apartment. That was maybe a little bit sad, but Zuko didn’t mind; Mai and Ty Lee were two of his closest friends, and he had learned to never take his relationship with Azula for granted. He’d rather spend too much time with her than none at all, especially since she had mellowed out a lot since high school. 

Zuko was currently seated on the lone armchair in the living room, trying to focus on the television and not Azula and Ty Lee on the couch. They’d started dating less than a year ago after a long time of bouncing around one another, and Zuko was incredibly happy for them. Still, he didn’t always like to sit around watching his little sister drape herself over one of his best friends, or listen to Ty Lee giggle when Azula tugged at her hair. 

“I’m trying to watch,” Zuko snapped when Azula poked Ty Lee in the stomach, drawing a shriek of laughter from her.

Azula turned her head lazily to raise an eyebrow at him. Ty Lee was seated half on the couch and half in her lap, her arms wound tight around Azula’s waist. “ _You’re_ watching the Great British Bakeoff?” she asked. 

“So what if I am?” 

“You called Mary Berry annoying last week,” said Ty Lee.

Zuko rolled his eyes and leaned forward to snag the remote off the coffee table. Azula and Ty Lee went back to tickling each other or whatever the fuck they were doing. 

As Zuko was trying to find something else to watch to drown out the sounds of a happy couple sitting far too close to him- god, Zuko was _so_ single- the front door opened, and Zuko looked up to see the newest happy couple of the group entering.

Mai had a grey plastic shopping bag hooked on one arm, and Toph was holding onto her other. As they stepped in and Mai shut the door behind them, Toph paused, cocked her head to the side, and said, “Who the fuck is watching the Great British Bakeoff?”

Azula barked out a laugh as Zuko pressed down too hard on the remote’s power button, turning the television off. “I’m just going to go home,” he snapped. 

“We all know you’re not going to do that,” said Azula.

“Whatever,” Zuko said, and didn’t move. 

“Hi guys,” Ty Lee said, smiling over at Mai and Toph. “What have you two been up to?”

“We went to the mall.” Mai dropped her shopping bag on the floor next to the bar counter and took a seat. Toph hopped up into one as well, leaning her cane up against the counter. 

“Mai said that Zuko was the one who got her hooked on Hot Topic,” Toph said, turning her head to look about the room. “Thanks a lot for that one.”

“Hey, I haven’t been since high school,” Zuko said. “That’s all her.”

“Traitor,” said Mai.

“It’s always so dark in there,” Ty Lee said, wrinkling her nose. 

“Everyone stop talking about Hot Topic immediately,” Azula said in an authoritative voice. “My girlfriend doesn’t like it.” 

Ty Lee giggled and leaned in to peck her on the nose. Zuko rolled his eyes.

“What’s been going on here?” asked Mai.

“I’ve been trying to have a quiet afternoon on the couch,” Zuko said. He glanced at Azula and Ty Lee and said, “Key word being _trying_.”

“You literally have your own apartment,” said Azula with a roll of her eyes. 

“I’m _so sorry_ I want to spend time with my little sister.”

“Yes,” Mai said to Toph, “they are like this all the time, if you were wondering.”

“Shut up, Mai,” said Zuko and Azula together. Then they glared at each other. 

“It’s all good,” Toph said. She leaned one elbow on the counter, looking extremely relaxed for someone surrounded by what was essentially a group of strangers. “I think arguments are healthy. Get everything off your chest at once, that’s what I always say.”

Zuko thought this was funny, because Mai had always been a fan of repressing her own emotions, but he wisely chose not to say anything. 

“Do you guys want to watch a movie or something?” Ty Lee said, easing off of Azula’s lap but keeping an arm around her. 

“Nah, I can’t hang out that long,” Toph said. “I’m grabbing dinner with some friends.”

“Sokka and Suki?” Mai asked.

Zuko straightened up on the couch and twisted to stare at Toph. “Did you say Sokka?”

Toph pulled a face. “Uh, yeah,” she said. “Don’t go calling it a weird name; you’re called _Zuko_.”

“No,” Zuko said. He knew that the others were all looking at him strangely, but suddenly Zuko felt very disoriented. “Sorry, he’s just- does he have a younger sister named Katara?”

“Yeah,” Toph said slowly. Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Zuko said. He realized that he was gripping the back of the couch cushion too tightly and eased his fingers off. “It’s just- I know him, I think? He’s in my, uh, my theatre class.”

Mai’s eyebrows shot up. Toph’s glare eased, slowly being replaced by something more curious. 

“Hang on,” she said. “Were you and Sokka partners on a project recently?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Holy _shit_!” Toph said, so loudly it was nearly a shout, making Ty Lee jump. Azula scowled at Toph, who pointed a finger roughly in the direction of Zuko and said, “You two hooked up!” 

Zuko probably should have felt more embarrassed that the accusation was being levelled at him in front of his little sister and best friends, but he couldn’t help the way his heart jumped in his chest as he said, “He told you?” 

“Duh,” Toph said. “He’s like, my best friend.”

“Hang on,” Azula said, waving her fingers in the air to draw attention back to her. “What is happening?”

Zuko shook his head, which kind of felt like it was spinning. Sokka had told his friends about him? “Sokka and I were partners for a class project,” he said. “I- that’s it.”

“No,” Toph said. She had gone from very relaxed to nearly buzzing with excitement in less than a few seconds. “Are you into him?”

Zuko opened his mouth, then closed it, then said, “Sorry?”

“Are you into him,” Toph repeated, sounding impatient. “Answer wisely, I can tell when people are lying.”

“Toph,” Mai said, sounding disapproving as she glanced at Zuko with mild concern. 

Zuko tightened his fingers once more on the back of the chair. He’d mostly written Sokka off as a very attractive lost cause considering how rude Zuko had been to him, but- “Yes,” he said, already cringing away from the look his sister shot him. “But it doesn’t matter, he-”

“You need to make a move on him, dude.”

Zuko blinked. “Huh?” 

“Listen,” Toph said, “I don’t like to meddle in other people’s business- alright, that’s a lie, yes I do- look, that boy’s got his emotions repressed so far up his ass he barely knows what he’s feeling half the time, but he fucking likes you, man. He’s not going to do anything about it, though, so you need to step in.”

“Hang on,” Zuko said, trying to process what she’d just said. “Did- did you just say he likes me? Like, like likes me?”

“Are we in middle school?” Azula asked.

“Again, I don’t like to meddle,” Toph said. “But just- I think you should make a move on him. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Is this the same guy that left you at the party?” Ty Lee asked, sounding concerned. 

“That was a misunderstanding,” Zuko said. He turned to Toph and said, feeling his words soften a little, “He’s taking care of Katara by himself, right?”

Toph sank back down in her seat, losing a bit of that manic energy. “Yeah,” she said. “Listen, you should know that if you do try anything, you’re signing up for Sokka _and_ Katara. She’s basically his whole life. Are you okay with that?”

Zuko stared at her. He thought about it, trying to push aside his incredulity- yeah, Sokka had seemed into him at the party, but Zuko had been so awful afterwards, could he really still be interested? Zuko certainly was, but Sokka was gorgeous and funny and smart and _focus, Zuko_ \- to really consider this. It had been awhile since he’d dated anyone at all, and he didn’t have the best track record for choosing the right people. He was a little wary of the idea of dating someone who essentially had a kid, but then he thought about the way Sokka had scooped Katara up at the Rough Rhino, the way he clearly pushed himself to make sure she had the best life he could provide… Zuko didn’t really think he had a chance of _not_ falling for him. 

“Yeah,” Zuko said softly. “I think so.” He shook himself off a little, then said with a slight wince, “But, uh, I don’t think Katara likes me very much.”

“Oh, yeah,” Toph said, a grin stretching across her face. “She totally beat your ass up, didn’t she?”

“I’m sorry,” Azula said. “How old is this girl?”

“Six,” said Toph. Immediately a delighted expression sprang to Azula’s face.

“How can I make a move if his little sister hates me?” Zuko asked before Azula could say anything else. 

Toph flapped a hand at him. “That’ll be easy. Katara’s protective of Sokka, but she’s still a kid. Just, I don’t know, give her some ice cream or something.”

Zuko didn’t think it would be quite that simple. Still, if Toph was telling the truth- she had no reason to lie to him about this, right?- and Zuko really _did_ still have a shot with Sokka… it would have been stupid not to at least try.

“Alright,” Zuko said, trying to sound more certain than he felt. “I’ll try it.”

“ _Hell_ yeah,” Toph said, pumping a fist in the air. “This is so much better than trying to stage an intervention for Sokka, Suki’s going to be thrilled.”

“An intervention?” Azula raised her eyebrows coolly, looking at Zuko with more than a bit of distrust. “What kind of guy is this, exactly?”

“A good one,” Toph said, scowling in the direction of the television. She pointed at Zuko, her aim eerily accurate, and said, “Sokka’s had a shitty few years, okay? If you’re going to do this, you’d better do it right, or else I’ll kick your ass.”

“I know,” Zuko said before his sister could jump in and say anything scathing. She didn’t show it often, but Zuko knew she was nearly as protective over him as he was of her. He threw a small smile at her to try and settle her a bit, then turned back to Toph.

“I know,” he said again. He took a deep breath, trying to stoke his confidence a little bit. “I’m going to try.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Theatre class got a lot more relaxing once the threat of imminent performance was no longer hanging over them. Professor Lily went back to blabbering for extended periods of time without stopping, now about Shakespeare and Marlowe and a bunch of other really old dead people, and Sokka went back to tuning her out and trying not to fixate too much on Zuko.

It was difficult. Zuko had taken to sitting next to Sokka in class now, and it was becoming harder and harder for Sokka to avoid his growing feelings. Sokka had been attracted, initially, to Zuko’s looks at the party, but the more he got to know him the more Sokka found to like.

Zuko was, first and foremost, a major nerd. He still took notes during class about everything Professor Lily said, and actually seemed interested in what she was talking about. Sokka had already been subject to several post-class rants about dramatic structure and historical costume design and a lot of things that made Sokka wish he’d listened more when Suki had gone through her Mamma Mia phase. Zuko was also snarky, with a sharp sense of humor that simultaneously surprised Sokka and thrilled him.

Zuko was also still very attractive. That hadn’t quite gone away, but Sokka liked to think he was getting better at ignoring it. 

Sokka had mostly expected Zuko to leave him alone after their project; Sokka had been a jerk, after all, even though he was pretty sure he’d had a decent excuse at the time. Zuko, however, seemed to be putting in even more effort to stay close to Sokka and engage him conversation before and after class.

And then, one day when Sokka was walking Zuko out to his car, Zuko said, “Do you want to do something this weekend?”

Sokka tripped over a rock that wasn’t there. He righted himself immediately, feeling his face warm, and hoped Zuko hadn’t seen. “Huh?”

Judging by the small smirk on Zuko’s face, he’d definitely noticed. “This weekend,” he said slowly, as if Sokka were a very small child. Was this how Katara felt all the time? “Would you like to do something?”

“Oh,” Sokka said. They’d reached Zuko’s car; Zuko stopped and turned to look at him, making no move to get in. 

“I’d love to, Zuko,” Sokka said, regaining enough of his composure to smile at Zuko. “But I’m looking after Katara.” 

Zuko nodded, looking unbothered by the rejection. “The aquarium does half-priced admission on Sundays. Would she be interested in that?”

“Huh?” Sokka asked again.

“Katara,” Zuko said. “We could go to the aquarium if that’s something she’d enjoy.”

“Hang on,” Sokka said, fiddling with the strap of his messenger bag so his hands had something to do. “You want to take Katara to the aquarium?”

“I want to take you _and_ Katara to the aquarium,” Zuko said. 

Sokka frowned at him, feeling a little suspicious. The only people in his life who had ever hung out with him and Katara had been Suki and Toph. Sokka had actually been quite popular in high school, but most of his friends had dropped him after the first few times Sokka had flaked on their plans in order to take care of his sister. Apparently your popularity took a hit when you became a single parent- who knew?

“Why?” he asked.

“Because,” Zuko said. The only expression Sokka could pick out on his face was patience, which was a little odd because it was _Zuko._ Sokka hadn’t known him that long, but that definitely wasn’t a trait Sokka would attribute to him. “I want to spend time with you, and I would also appreciate it if your little sister didn’t hate my guts.”

“She doesn’t hate your guts.”

“The bruise on my shin says otherwise.”

At that, Sokka couldn’t help but grin a little. He couldn’t officially support it, but his little sister definitely packed a punch.

“I don’t know,” Sokka said, thinking uncertainly about the admission prices. It was an aquarium; half-priced was still bound to break Sokka’s horribly underfunded bank. He didn’t know if he could justify it, even if the aquarium had been Katara’s favorite place to go as a small child. 

God, he couldn’t even afford to give his little sister this _one thing_. Maybe if Sokka scrimped and saved he could have the money by Christmas. 

Maybe.

“It’s my treat,” Zuko said. He smiled, looking hopeful, and Sokka felt something in his chest warm the same way it did when Katara turned puppy-dog eyes on him. “Please?” 

Sokka knew he had to say no. He also really, really wanted to say yes. Sokka stared at Zuko for several seconds, weighing his responsibilities, realizing that he probably owed Zuko for being such a jerk to him, and if this was how Zuko wanted to patch everything over, did Sokka really have a right to say no? 

Besides, Katara _would_ enjoy it. He knew that she would. He didn’t want to keep her from that.

“Well,” Sokka said slowly. “I guess we could do that.”

“Way to show some enthusiasm,” Zuko said. He was smirking again, and Sokka pulled a face at him.

“Gee, Zuko,” he said, “we would _love_ to go on a field trip to the aquarium with you! Do you think we’ll get to ride on the same school bus?”

Zuko snorted. “Ass,” he said without any heat. He turned to open his car door, tossing his bag in, then turned back and said, “I can pick you guys up on Sunday, if that works?”

Yeah, no. Sokka had seen enough of Zuko’s wardrobe and his shiny car to know he’d be very unimpressed by the rundown complex Sokka and Katara lived in. “We can meet you there,” Sokka said.

Zuko shrugged. “Alright,” he said. “Just text me the time, I’m free all day.”

“Cool,” Sokka said. He hadn’t felt this awkward in a long time. Apparently all of the social skills from high school had faded along with his friendships.

“Do you want a ride home?” Zuko asked, gesturing behind him to his car. 

Sokka shook his head. “I’m alright,” he said, grinning at Zuko to show his thanks. “I guess I’ll, uh, see you on Sunday.”

“Yeah.” Zuko smiled. The sun was shining fiercely overhead, bright and glaring, but somehow Sokka felt more blinded by Zuko’s smile. “Bye, Sokka.”

“Bye,” Sokka said. He stood there and watched as Zuko slid into the driver’s seat and closed the door behind him, then realized he was being weird and quickly spun on his heel. He walked in the other direction, listening to the sound of Zuko pulling out of the parking lot behind him. 

What the fuck had Sokka just agreed to?

He made it halfway down the block before he pulled his phone out and glanced at the screen to check the time. Then he cursed, hiking his bag higher onto his shoulder and breaking into a sprint.

He was going to be late for work. Mongke was going to _kill_ him. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When their bus had nearly reached the stop closest to the aquarium, Sokka put a hand on Katara’s shoulder to pull her attention away from the window and crouched down to look her in the eye.

“Alright,” he said. “Remember the rules?”

Katara rolled her eyes, but said, “No kicking or yelling at Zuko. Even if he deserves it.”

“No kicking or yelling period,” Sokka said. 

“But he yelled at _you_.” 

Sokka sighed. “We went over this, kitty cat,” he said. “Zuko was just upset, he didn’t mean it. He apologized. When someone makes a mistake and apologizes, we try to forgive them, right?”

Katara huffed and sat back in her seat, crossing her arms. She was wearing a puffy white jacket so she kind of just looked like an annoyed mini marshmallow. 

“Right,” she said. 

When the bus stopped, Katara hopped up and ran for the door. Sokka snagged her backpack- Moana themed, a present from Suki when the movie had first come out- and followed after her, thanking the bus driver as he got out. 

Katara was waiting for him on the curb, rocking up onto her toes excitedly. “C’mon,” she said, grabbing Sokka’s hand. Whatever annoyance she’d felt on the bus seemed to have faded. “I wanna see the otters!” 

“They aren’t going anywhere,” Sokka said with a laugh as he let Katara drag him down the street. 

They turned a few corners, tracing the busy streets until they reached the large open courtyard in front of the aquarium. It was a huge building painted blue with a lot of glass windows swooping down its side. There was a small line at the ticket counter near the front door. Katara started to pull Sokka in that direction, but Sokka spotted Zuko standing off to the other side of the entrance and gently tugged her that way.

Zuko was doing something on his phone, but he looked up as they approached. He smiled, and Sokka felt his heart leap into his throat. He looked great- hair tied back, wearing a soft-looking blue sweater and dark jeans. 

“Hi,” he said when they reached him.

“Hi,” Sokka said. He kept smiling at Zuko for a moment until Katara tugged on his hand. Sokka blinked and looked down on her, then cleared his throat and shrugged a shoulder towards Zuko.

Katara’s face scrunched up. She looked at Zuko with no small amount of distrust, standing half behind Sokka. 

“I’m sorry for kicking you, Mr. Zuko,” Katara recited. 

Zuko chuckled. He crouched down so he was eye level with Katara, still smiling. “Just Zuko is okay,” he said. “And your apology is accepted. I’m very sorry that I yelled at your brother. I was kind of a jerk, wasn’t I?”

“Yes,” Katara said. 

“I know,” said Zuko. “Can you forgive me?”

Katara eyed him for another moment, then looked doubtfully up at Sokka. Sokka just raised his eyebrows. Katara sighed, then turned back to Zuko and said, “Yeah.”

“Good,” said Zuko. “I’m very excited to go to the aquarium with you.”

At the reminder of where they were going, Katara’s eyes widened. She started tugging Sokka towards the entrance again, and Sokka laughed and said, “Hang on, Katara, I have to buy our tickets first.”

“Wait,” Zuko said, straightening up. He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out three bright blue tickets. “This one’s for you, Katara,” he said, handing it down to her.

Katara gasped out loud and snatched the ticket from his hand. “Thanks!” she shouted, spinning on her heel and making a break for the door.

“Katara, wait,” Sokka called after her. He turned back to Zuko and said, feeling a little panicked, “Zuko, you really didn’t have to do that.” 

“I told you it was my treat,” Zuko said. He held the other ticket out towards Sokka. “It’s not a big deal, I promise. Take it.”

Sokka felt horrible about it, but he also couldn’t help the stab of relief he felt at not having to pull out his wallet quite yet. 

“I’ll pay you back,” he said, taking the ticket from Zuko.

“No, you won’t,” Zuko said. “This is a gift. That would be incredibly rude.” His gaze wandered, and his smile grew a little more devious. “Nice backpack.”

Sokka glanced down at the plastic Moana backpack hanging off his arm. “Thanks,” he said. “Think I should bring it to class?”

“I’d bet Professor Lily would love it.”

“Sokka!” Sokka turned to see Katara standing next to the ticket taker, arms crossed as she glared at them. “Come _on_!” 

“I am so sorry for the afternoon you’re about to have,” Sokka said as he and Zuko walked over to join her.

“Don’t be,” Zuko said. “She seems cute.”

“You’ll change your tune in an hour or so.”

When they reached the front entrance, the ticket taker took each of their tickets and waved them inside. Katara started to make another break for it, but Sokka swooped down just in time to grab the hoodie of her parka and pull her back. 

“Hold on, Katara.” Sokka crouched down to look at her. “What are the rules?”

“No kicking or yelling at Zuko.”

Behind them, Sokka heard Zuko snort. Feeling thoroughly embarrassed, Sokka shot his sister a look and said, “Not those rules, the rules about being in public places.” 

“Don’t run too far ahead,” Katara said. “Make sure that I can always see you. If anyone tries to grab me, scream as loud as I can.”

Toph had taught her that last rule, but it held too much logic for Sokka to try to dissuade Katara of following it. “Good,” Sokka said. He grinned, then straightened up and said, “What do you want to see first?” 

Katara hesitated. She looked behind her at the main foyer, where crowds of people were wandering around. A huge diorama of a whale hung on strings from the ceiling.

“I don’t know,” Katara said, suddenly looking uncertain. 

Zuko cleared his throat and stepped up beside Sokka. “I heard that there’s a very cool sea otter exhibit,” he said. “Do you like those?”

And Sokka saw the switch turn in Katara’s head as Zuko went from her number one enemy to her best friend in a matter of seconds.

“Yes!” she said, too loud, and reached out to grab Zuko’s hand. She started pulling him away, further into the aquarium, and said, “Where are they? Sokka and I watched a documentary on them. Did you know they break open clams with rocks? And float on their backs?”

Zuko shot a wide-eyed look over his shoulder as Katara dragged him away. Sokka laughed and followed after them, trying to ignore the weird feeling in his chest as he watched Katara and Zuko wander away hand in hand. 

They didn’t see the sea otters first, because Katara got distracted by a tank of colorful fish as they passed through the first section of the aquarium. The different exhibits were separated into geographical regions, according to the signs around them. They passed through the Pacific Ocean section first, which was dark and stocked with floor-to-ceiling tanks with hundreds of fish. As soon as they walked in Katara dropped Zuko’s hand and ran ahead, not far enough to worry Sokka, but enough that she could pop from tank to tank as she pleased.

“Still think she’s cute?” Sokka asked, falling into step beside Zuko as they strolled through the exhibit. 

“Yes,” Zuko said. “A little overenthusiastic, maybe. I think she gets that from you.”

Sokka felt his cheeks burn even as he cast a look of faux-surprise at Zuko. “How dare you,” he said. “I have never been enthusiastic about anything in my life, ever.” 

“How terribly depressing,” said Zuko. 

Sokka smiled as he looked ahead to find Katara. She was standing with her face pressed against a glass tank full of bright orange fish darting between long strands of kelp. She was up on her toes, nose almost squished against the glass. 

“Thank you again for the tickets,” Sokka said. “I haven’t taken Katara out like this in awhile.” He caught his tongue at the last second, hoping Zuko wouldn’t wonder why Sokka couldn’t take his six-year-old sister to places she enjoyed, but Zuko just nodded.

“It’s really no problem,” he said. He hesitated for a moment, then turned his head away to look at one of the tanks. “I have to admit that my intentions were a little bit selfish. I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a long time.”

Sokka stared at the side of Zuko’s face, at the sharp cut of his jaw. “Oh,” he said stupidly. 

Before Sokka could ask Zuko to clarify exactly what he meant by that, because there was no way Zuko could mean what Sokka _thought_ he meant, Katara popped back up in front of them, bouncing on her toes. 

“Sokka, Sokka,” she said, “can you come lift me so I can see into one of the caves? The sign says there’s a crab in there!” 

“What am I, a ladder?” Sokka asked as he bent down to pick her up. “Oh,” he said with a groan, “you’re getting too old for this. Aren’t you fifteen or something now?” 

“I’m seven!”

“Six and one quarter.” 

“Six and a half,” Katara said to Zuko, who nodded very seriously and said, “Don’t worry, I believe you.”

“The treachery never ends,” Sokka said as Katara beamed at Zuko.

Katara pointed them over to the display and Sokka dutifully hoisted her up so she could see into one of the gaps in the rock formation. The crab poked two beady eyes out at her, waving its claws around as Katara stared, entranced. 

Sokka set Katara down and she walked them around to each of the exhibits, rattling off information from the plaques set up in front of the tanks. As the visit went on, Sokka found he couldn’t decide who he liked watching more- Katara, who was more excited than Sokka had seen her in… forever, maybe, or Zuko, who listened closely to everything Katara said and bent down beside her to peer into the tanks at whatever she was enthusiastically pointing to. 

At the end of the Pacific Ocean exhibit Katara ran slightly ahead, then immediately sprinted back and said, “Zuko, I found the otters! C’mon, they’re over here!” 

“You found them?” Zuko asked, almost matching her excitement with a grin. “Lead the way.”

“C’mon,” Katara said, hurrying forward. Zuko followed after her, leaving Sokka to trail behind and watch with bemusement as Katara pointed Zuko over to the largest tank they had seen yet, which had an open space at the top so the otters could float on their backs and still be visible.

Sokka stood back, watching Katara and Zuko as they watched the otters. Given enough space for a few minutes to collect his own thoughts, Sokka’s mind wandered back once more to Zuko’s motivation for this trip. He couldn’t have meant it to be a date, could he have? Sokka had brought his six year old sister with him. That didn’t seem like a very fair date for Zuko.

Sokka hadn’t gone on any real dates since high school. This was nothing like the few times he’d taken Yue out to the mall or to the movies, where they’d sat in the back row and held hands, both too nervous to go any further. He’d taken Suki out to dinner a couple times before they’d mutually decided that they preferred being friends. His freshman year, before his dad had died, Sokka had gone to a party and made out with a guy who’d tasted vaguely of sour cream and onion chips. 

So Sokka didn’t have the most comprehensive understanding of what dates were supposed to be like, but he was positive they didn’t usually entail trailing after a six-year-old girl for a few hours. Sokka couldn’t quite understand what Zuko was doing here. Was he really that concerned about what a little girl thought of him? 

When Katara had had her fill of watching the otters dive around, she headed towards the exhibit’s exit, babbling about finding the South Pole section. Zuko strolled over to walk with Sokka as they followed her, hands in his pockets, looking (as usual) like he’d just walked off the page of a fashion magazine. 

“Penny for your thoughts,” Zuko said when they’d been walking for a minute or so in silence.

Sokka glanced over at him. Zuko really should wear blue more often, he thought. It made him look softer.

“It’s nothing,” Sokka said. Then, deciding to test the waters, he said, “Just thinking about how cute you and Katara were looking at those otters.”

Sokka definitely didn’t imagine the flush that spread across Zuko’s face. Sokka smiled, pressing back the pressure he felt in his throat. 

They spent the remainder of the afternoon covering every inch of the aquarium, including the outside exhibits where tropical birds in cages squawked at them as they passed. Katara alternated between clinging to Sokka and Zuko’s sides and running ahead to preview the exhibits so she’d have enough knowledge to explain everything to them when they caught up with her.

Sokka and Zuko were left with plenty of time to talk, more than they’d ever had during class. Sokka learned that Zuko was interning at a law firm and was considering going into politics at some point. He had a younger sister named Azula whom he hadn’t always gotten along with, although they had a good relationship now. He liked the color green because it had been his mother’s favorite. 

Sokka tried to listen more than he spoke, diverting Zuko’s more personal questions. He answered the basic stuff- he didn’t care for his job at the Rough Rhino but he enjoyed the flexible hours, he was hoping to go into civil engineering, he didn’t have a favorite movie because he’d watched nothing but Disney movies for the past few years. 

It was nice, it was so fucking nice and simple. Outside they passed a snack cart, and Sokka stopped and bought them all soft serve cones without taking the time to worry about how much they cost. He talked with his sister and with Zuko and marveled at how well they seemed to get on when Katara wasn’t attempting to commit first degree murder.

Sokka made it halfway through the afternoon before he realized that he was actually enjoying himself, and that he hadn’t felt like this in a very, very long time. The thought slammed into him so hard he actually stopped where he was walking, ice cream cone in hand, and stared very hard at the back of Katara’s head as she skipped off to see a tropical toucan. 

“Sokka?” Zuko had paused as well, glancing back at Sokka. “Is everything alright?”

He had a spot of ice cream on his upper lip. Sokka wanted to lick it off. 

“Yeah,” Sokka said. He forced a smile at Zuko, then continued walking, following Katara’s beckons as she gestured for them to join her at the toucan cage. 

When they’d seen every exhibit in the aquarium and Katara’s enthusiasm had started to flag, Zuko suggested they stop by the gift shop on the way out. Sokka felt his stomach drop as Katara’s face lit up, but he didn’t have the heart to stop her as she pivoted to head straight towards the bright store entrance.

“This was always my favorite part of every trip,” Zuko said as he and Sokka entered the store. “My mother would always let my sister and I pick out one thing from the gift shop before we left.”

Sokka hummed to show he was listening but his eyes and attention were fixed on Katara. He could see her braid weaving through the racks of novelty items, the magnets and necklaces and t-shirts all plastered with images of fish and sea animals. The gift shop was full of kids wandering around with their arms full of stuff and parents waiting in line at the cashier to check out. 

He and Zuko poked around for a few minutes in the poster section before Sokka realized that Katara had been lingering in one spot for awhile. He glanced at Zuko and said apologetically, “Excuse me,” and ducked across the room to reach his sister.

Katara was standing in front of a rack of stuffed animals. She was clutching something close to her chest. 

“Hey, kitty cat,” Sokka said lightly as he approached her. “Watcha got there?” 

Katara turned and smiled at him. “Look,” she said, holding out a stuffed plush otter. “Isn’t he cute?”

Sokka stared at the animal’s glass black eyes. “He’s very cute.” 

“His name is Nari.”

“That’s a great name.” Sokka crouched down next to her, glancing at the colorful tag. He couldn’t see the price from there, but Katara was still holding it close, stroking her fingers against the fur on top of its head. Sokka had to at least check the price. He _had_ to. “Do you want to take Nari home?”

Katara’s eyes widened. She looked back down at the otter and stroked its head again.

“No,” she said. She lifted her head to smile at Sokka. “It’s okay. I don’t need him.”

Sokka felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He braced one hand against the floor without worrying about how dirty it was, supporting himself as he stared at his little sister. Around them children were running and laughing, scooping toys out of bins and carrying them over to their parents. It was loud, and so bright in there, and Sokka suddenly felt as though his head was swimming.

Katara’s eyes darted up to something above Sokka’s head. Sokka blinked several times, trying to school his expression, then stood up slowly and turned to face Zuko.

“Are you guys ready to get going?” Zuko asked quietly. He was looking closely at Sokka, who pressed his lips tightly together and tried to keep his expression as blank as possible.

They waited for Katara to tuck the stuffed otter neatly in amongst the others, stopping to once more pet the top of its head. Sokka heard her whisper, “Bye, Nari,” before she turned to face them, hiking her backpack up more securely on her shoulders. She looked up at Sokka and grabbed his hand with a smile, giving his fingers a firm squeeze. Sokka didn’t trust himself to speak, didn’t trust himself to do anything other than grip her hand back and swallow down everything he felt.

As they left the gift shop and headed for the front door, Zuko paused. “I’m so sorry,” he said with an awkward smile, “but I need to use the restroom before I head home. I can meet you guys out by the fountain in a few minutes?”

“That’s fine,” Sokka said, grateful for the time he’d have to get himself under control. He and Katara left through the exit as Zuko turned and retraced their steps back into the aquarium. 

Katara was quiet as they crossed the courtyard. It was still bright out, the sun shining despite the chill breeze. Katara swung their hands between them, humming lightly under her breath as she stepped carefully over a crack in the sidewalk.

Sokka took a deep breath, trying to bring his heart rate under control. He was being stupid. This was stupid. Katara was fine, she’d had a nice afternoon at the aquarium. So what if she’d apparently realized the extent of their financial situation? So what if she thought the norm of living with Sokka meant she had to forego even the simplest of trinkets? It was- well, it wasn’t fine, but Sokka shouldn’t get upset, not where his sister could see him.

When they reached the fountain Sokka lifted Katara up and swung her down to perch on the edge of the fountain, then crouched down to grin at her. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah,” Katara said with a bright smile, swinging her feet out. “I liked the seals and the crabs a lot!”

“They were very cool,” Sokka said. 

“I like the aquarium.”

Sokka reached out to brush her bangs back and hoped his smile wasn’t too shaky. “Me too, kitty cat.” 

After a few moments Sokka spotted Zuko walking over to them. He stood up, preparing to say goodbye and then rush Katara off to the bus stop so they could catch the next one. Zuko was walking over to them quickly, and as he got closer Sokka spotted the cagey, almost nervous expression on his face.

Zuko was carrying a blue plastic bag. He stopped a few feet away and shuffled his feet awkwardly, not quite meeting Sokka’s eyes. 

“What’s that?” Katara asked curiously, leaning around Sokka to peer at the bag in Zuko’s hand.

Zuko hesitated, then shook the bag open. He reached inside and pulled out a stuffed otter, which he held out in Katara’s direction.

Katara gasped. She leapt off the fountain and dove for the animal, grabbing it from Zuko and pulling it in for a hug. “Nari! You went back for him!” She clutched the animal close, then looked up at Zuko with wide eyes. “Did- did you get him for you?”

“Well, actually,” Zuko said, “I was hoping that you might be able to give him a home.”

Katara’s face split into a wide grin. She looked up at Sokka, blue eyes sparkling, and said, “Did you hear that, Sokka?” She turned back to Zuko and said, with great emphasis, “I promise that me and Sokka will give him the very best home in the whole wide world!” 

Zuko lifted his eyes, turning a nervous smile on Sokka. Sokka stared back at him. His chest suddenly felt very tight, his neck and face very warm.

“Hey, Katara,” Sokka said, catching his sister’s attention. He smiled, and then pointed a short way away across the courtyard at a metal sculpture of several dolphins leaping out of bronze waves. “Could you go hang out with those dolphins over there for just a minute? Don’t go far, I just need to talk to Zuko about… making sure we have everything we need for Nari at home.”

Katara nodded, a serious expression crossing her face. “Okay,” she said, hugging the stuffed otter with both arms. 

Sokka kept an eye on her as she wandered away, making sure she only went as far as the dolphin statues. Then he turned back to Zuko, who wasn’t smiling anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he said, gripping the plastic bag with both hands. It crinkled loudly. “I didn’t mean to overstep, I just- it seemed like she liked it, so I thought-”

“Zuko,” Sokka said, hating to interrupt but wanting to stop that train of thought before it started. Zuko shut his mouth, looking at Sokka uncertainly.

Sokka shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. “I… I’m not mad,” he said. “But- you didn’t have to do that. You already bought our tickets, and- it’s too much.”

Zuko shook his head so quickly his bun flopped on his head. “No,” he said. “Sokka, it’s alright. I wanted to. Katara’s a really good kid. I had fun with her, and I wanted to give her a gift to help her remember the trip.”

Sokka scanned Zuko’s face desperately for some sign of sarcasm and found nothing but earnest truthfulness. He felt heat poking at his eyes and frustratingly blinked the tears back, embarrassed at the display of emotion. “Zuko- thank you. That- that really means a lot. It’s perfect for her.” 

Zuko’s shoulders sank down with apparent relief. “Oh. Good,” he said. The bag rustled again as he shook it open and reached in. “I’m glad you’re not upset, because I have something else.”

Sokka’s eyes widened. “Zuko,” he said, putting a hand up to try and stop Zuko, “seriously, that’s way too-”

He stopped as Zuko held an object out between him. It was a necklace, a white shark’s tooth hanging on a rough leather cord. It glinted faintly in the sunlight as Zuko held it up.

“I,” Zuko said, “I hope you don’t mind. I saw it and thought of you, I know you have your shell necklace, but I thought… I thought you might like it.”

Sokka felt vaguely detached from his own body. He reached out to take it from Zuko, letting their fingers brush, bringing up his other hand to touch the sharp point of the tooth. He looked back up at Zuko, who was watching Sokka with an expression on his face that Sokka didn’t quite want to analyze right now.

“Zuko,” he said softly.

“That’s a gift, too,” Zuko said. “So you can’t return it. It would be rude.”

“Rude,” Sokka echoed. He brushed his thumb over the rough leather cord. “Zuko, you- _thank_ you. It’s beautiful. I love it.”

That seemed to relieve Zuko even more than Katara liking her gift. He smiled.

“Good,” he said. “Listen- thank you for letting me spend time with you and Katara. She’s a really special kid.”

Despite himself, Sokka laughed, glancing over at the dolphins to make sure Katara was still there. “You’re thanking me?” he asked. “Zuko, thank _you_. The tickets, the gifts- Katara had such a good afternoon.”

“And you?” Zuko tipped his head forward, looking at Sokka with suddenly softened eyes. “What kind of afternoon did you have?” 

Sokka curled his fingers around the necklace. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat.

“A very good one,” he said. 

Zuko smiled, bright as the sun, and Sokka realized just how much trouble he was truly in.

“Sokka.” It was Katara, skipping back over, sea otter in hand. "Nari says he wants to go home and get dinner.” 

Sokka smiled at her as she ran to his side. “Oh, he does, does he?” Sokka leaned down to wrap an arm around her, pulling her in close enough to press a kiss to the top of her head. He swiped a hand over the sea otter’s head and then nudged Katara’s shoulder. “Why don’t you say bye to Zuko?”

Katara peeled away from Sokka and went over to Zuko, who caught on to what was happening at the last second and crouched down to accept Katara’s hug. Katara threw her arms around Zuko’s neck and squeezed, still clutching the sea otter in one small hand.

“Thank you, Zuko,” she said, “I promise to take super good care of Nari.”

“I know you will,” Zuko said. 

Katara let go of Zuko and jumped back over to Sokka’s side. Zuko stood up and looked at Sokka, looking a little in awe of what had just happened.

“I’ll see you in class on Tuesday,” Sokka said.

“Yeah,” said Zuko. 

Sokka hesitated. Then he stepped forward, still clutching the necklace in his hand, and wrapped his arms around Zuko in a tight embrace. After a few seconds he felt hands settle on his waist, the touch light as a feather but still somehow making Sokka ache. 

“Thank you,” he murmured into Zuko’s unscarred ear, and felt Zuko’s fingers tighten against his hips. 

Sokka stepped away before he could give into one of the many impulses flashing through his mind. Katara immediately grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together as Zuko stared at Sokka, his gold eyes very wide. Sokka smiled, ignored the fluttering in his chest, and waggled his fingers at him as he and Katara turned to walk away.

“Bye, Zuko,” Katara called over her shoulder. “See you later!”

Sokka stared straight ahead, focusing on the route they’d need to take to get to the bus stop. Katara skipped along beside him, swinging her seat otter in one hand. She glanced over at Sokka’s free hand and said, “What’s that?”

Sokka glanced down at the necklace. “Zuko got it for me,” he said, dangling the shark’s tooth so that Katara could see it. “Isn’t it cool?”

“Super cool,” Katara said. “I _like_ Zuko.”

“Oh, you like him now?” Sokka said with a grin.

“Yeah. He’s really, really nice.”

Sokka felt his smile fade. He wound the necklace’s cord more securely around his fingers and tucked his hand into his pocket, pressing his thumb against the smooth side of the tooth. 

“Yeah,” Sokka said. “He is.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It happened one night after Sokka had finished cooking dinner. He served up a bowl of spaghetti to Katara and prepared another small one for himself, then realized he’d forgotten to grab the mail on his way up.

“I’ll be right back, Katara,” Sokka said, setting everything back on the counter. Katara didn’t look away from the television screen, which was playing an old rerun of Spongebob.

Sokka slipped his sandals on and headed out the front door. He jogged down the stairs and into the courtyard where all of their mailboxes were built into the wall. He pulled his keys out of his pocket, picking out the right one as he reached their box.

The office door opened as Sokka fished out the envelopes. “Hello, Sokka,” said Hama, the elderly landlord. 

“Hi, Hama.” Sokka closed the mailbox. “How are you doing?” 

“Just fine. How’s Katara?”

“She’s great. She’s learning about time zones in school, and she’s convinced that it means we’re able to time travel.”

Hama smiled. “These are the best of times, Sokka,” she said. “Cherish them.”

Sokka nodded, then lifted his hand in a wave. As he turned to leave, Hama said behind him, “Actually, Sokka, might I have a word with you?”

Sokka stopped. He turned to face Hama, who was opening the office door wider, a regretful expression on her face. 

It was just as Sokka had dreaded. Hama sat him down in her office and told him that she was very sorry, but she wouldn’t be able to give him anymore breaks in his rent. He would need to pay the full amount to her next week on the day it was due, and no later, or else they risked being evicted. 

“I’m sorry, Sokka,” Hama said. “You know I adore you and your sister. Times are hard. You understand.”

Sokka left her office numbly, clutching a handful of envelopes that were all bills. He wandered back up the stairs, free hand ghosting over the rust on the railing. He felt hollow, like his insides had been scooped out and left to dry in the hot sun. 

Spongebob was still playing when Sokka re-entered the living room. He slipped his sandals off, walked over to set the bills carefully on the counter, then went to pick up the second bowl of spaghetti. He opened the drawer and pulled out the plastic wrap, pulling a sheet over the top of the bowl. 

“What are you doing?” Katara asked. Sokka looked up to see her watching him with a frown, forkful of spaghetti hanging halfway to her mouth. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“No,” Sokka said. He wasn’t sure he’d ever have an appetite again. He smiled at Katara and said, “I ate at work, kitty cat. Beef bulgogi. It was super yummy.”

It was a lie, too transparent a lie, but no matter how perceptive Katara was she was still six years old, still trusted her big brother not to lie to her. She nodded, looking content with the answer, and turned back to the television. 

Sokka opened the fridge and stuck the bowl in. He’d be able to give it to Katara tomorrow for lunch. Sokka hadn’t eaten since dinner last night, but he felt nauseous suddenly. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to eat if he tried.

He left Katara in the living room, walked into the bedroom, and closed the door carefully behind him. He walked over to his bedside table, pulling open the drawer that held the most important of his belongings. His fingers wrapped around a rough cord. He pulled out the necklace and then turned to sink down onto his bed.

Sokka braced his knees against his elbows, necklace clutched in both hands. He let his head drop and pressed the flat side of the shark tooth against his shaking mouth. He took several deep breaths, letting his heart beat wildly for a few minutes, letting his mind go blank until all Sokka could focus on was the tightness in his shoulders and his sudden lightheadedness. All the while Sokka gripped the necklace tighter, staring very hard at the shag carpeting under his feet.

Sokka waited until he heard the commercial break from underneath the door. He squeezed his eyes shut just once, tight, and then opened them again. He sat up, opened the drawer to put the necklace carefully back inside, then closed it and stood up. He wiped at his eyes, double checking that he wasn’t obviously upset. He walked across the room to the door, wrapped his fingers around the handle, then paused. 

Sokka plastered a smile on his face, twisted the handle, and stepped out into the living room. Katara was giggling at something happening on the television, mostly finished with her dinner. 

Sokka sat next to her at the table. Katara was watching the television. Sokka was watching the back of Katara’s head. He wanted to grab her, pull her close and reassure her that everything was going to be fine, but then Katara would know what was happening and Sokka couldn’t let that happen. 

“Patrick’s so dumb,” Katara said, sticking her fork back into her spaghetti and twirling it. 

Sokka’s throat unstuck just enough to answer. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “He is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha let's just all focus on the cute aquarium date and not anything that came after it :) 
> 
> I'm running behind on responding to comments from the last chapter because you guys are incredible with all the support- even if I haven't responded to your comment yet, I promise that they literally make my day and I appreciate each one. Thank you <3 I hope you're all having an amazing day!


	5. affection between friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: eating disorder

It was past eleven when Sokka was finally able to put down the scrubbing brush and take a deep breath. He braced himself against the counter and let his head hang, taking a moment to soak in the relief of being done. His hair, which he’d tied back at the beginning of the night, had mostly fallen out of the hair tie. It hung loose, sticking to patches of sweat on his face.

The one good thing about Mongke was that whenever Sokka went to beg him for extra jobs, he always had them to give and never questioned Sokka’s desperation. Tonight he’d set Sokka to work deep cleaning all of the kitchen equipment after closing time- boiling out the deep fryers, scrubbing down the ovens and stoves and counters. Sokka was filthy and exhausted, covered head to toe in oil and dirty water, but the kitchen was sparkling and he’d have an extra fifty bucks tomorrow. 

Sokka had made the previous month’s rent, _barely_ , but he’d had to dip into his savings account to pull it off, and he was behind on several other bills now. They were starting this month off on a deficit. Sokka had been taking more hours at work and had started poking around for a second job to try and supplement the meager earnings he got at the Rough Rhino. He’d seen one promising lead for a job as a bartender at a local nightclub, but that would mean leaving Katara home alone at night. Sokka knew logically that she would probably be alright if left for a few hours, but the idea of it made panic claw at Sokka’s chest and squeeze until he dismissed the idea entirely.

There just weren’t enough hours in the day. Sokka spent as much time as he could working, and when he wasn’t working he was taking care of Katara and making sure she had no idea what was going on. Suki and Toph had stepped in without needing to be asked, offering to babysit Katara as often as they could and shooting concerned looks at him when they thought he wasn’t watching. Sokka couldn’t bring himself to care very much about any of that. Katara was healthy and as happy as she could be, and that was all that mattered right now.

Sokka pulled off his apron and wiped his arms off the best he could. He dropped it in the laundry basket and went to his locker to grab his stuff. Sokka turned off the lights in the kitchen as he left and moved out into the front part of the restaurant, which had already been closed down for the night. The chairs had all been stacked neatly on the tables, and it was eerily silent as Sokka weaved between them to get to the front door.

Outside, Sokka tugged the door shut and locked it with the spare key Mongke had given him. He crouched down and slid it back under the door, then straightened up. A brisk breeze blew by and Sokka shivered, rubbing his bare arms. He and Katara had overslept this morning, and in his haste to get them both out the door he’d forgotten to grab a jacket.

Sokka turned to start on his walk home, then froze. There was a car sitting by the curb, idling with the headlights on. Before Sokka could decide if he should make a break for it or not the passenger side window rolled down and a familiar voice called out, “Sokka!”

“Zuko?” Sokka approached the car incredulously, peering inside. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Need a ride home?” Zuko asked. He had the interior lights on, so Sokka could see his hopeful smile.

Sokka hesitated. Before, he hadn’t really wanted Zuko to see where he lived. Now Sokka found he didn’t actually care that much. If Zuko saw his apartment and decided it wasn’t good enough, whatever. At least this way Sokka could get back and let Suki off the hook sooner.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. He reached out and tugged on the door handle, slipping inside. “Sorry I’m a bit of a mess.”

“That’s alright,” said Zuko.

Sokka shut the door and leaned back against the seat. He looked at Zuko. Sokka hadn’t seen him in- a week and a half? Two weeks? It had been awhile, and despite his exhaustion Sokka felt a familiar ache settle into his chest as he looked at him.

Then Sokka frowned. “Hang on,” he said. “Were you waiting for me?” 

“Yeah,” Zuko said. 

“How did you know I was still working?”

Zuko shrugged. “Hunch.”

Sokka narrowed his eyes. “And why exactly are you here?”

“To give you a ride home.” Zuko put the car into drive and looked expectantly at Sokka.

Sokka held his gaze steady for a few seconds before giving up. “Go left at the light up here,” he said, sinking back into the leather seat. 

Zuko pulled away from the curb. The radio wasn’t on so they drove in silence. Sokka tilted his head to the side and looked out the dark window, hoping he wasn’t getting grease all over Zuko’s expensive car.

“You haven’t been coming to theatre class,” Zuko said.

“Yeah,” Sokka said. “I’ve been busy. I’ll be back soon.”

“I think Professor Lily’s worried about you. She keeps asking me where you are.”

“Hm.”

“I’m worried about you,” Zuko said, quieter.

Sokka blinked. He turned his head to stare at Zuko’s face. Zuko was focused on the road. “Why?” 

“Because you haven’t been coming to class and you haven’t been answering my texts.”

Zuko didn’t sound upset, but Sokka still winced. “Sorry,” he said. “I meant to, I just- I’ve been distracted.”

“With what?” 

“Work,” Sokka said, waving a hand vaguely in the air. “Katara. Wondering what the meaning of life is. You know, the usual.”

Zuko didn’t laugh. Sokka told him to turn right and he did. 

“You know I consider you one of my friends, Sokka.”

Sokka felt his chest tighten. “I know.”

“You can tell me if something’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on.” 

“Sokka,” Zuko said, his voice gentle, like he was talking to someone fragile, and Sokka felt something _snap_.

“Nothing’s going on,” he said, louder this time. “I don’t know if anyone’s noticed, but it’s fucking hard trying to support a six-year-old kid all on your own. I’ve got to work, that’s reality. I’m sorry I can’t be your fucking best friend all the time too.”

Zuko pressed his lips together and didn’t take his eyes off the road. Sokka dropped his face into his hands, anger abating as quickly as it had come.

“Sorry,” he said. “I- sorry.” 

“Is that what’s going on?” Zuko asked. “Problems at work?”

“No,” said Sokka. “I’m just- dealing with some shit, and putting in overtime. It’s tiring, but I can handle it. Turn right at the next stop sign.” 

Zuko drove for a little bit in silence. Then he said, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Sokka shook his head, stomach sinking. Why did Zuko have to be so fucking _nice_ all the time?

“No,” he said. “Thank you. But I’ll be fine.”

Sokka didn’t look too closely to see if Zuko accepted this answer. He’d gone back to staring out the window, watching as the houses grew smaller and more familiar the closer they got to his complex. 

“How’s Katara?” Zuko asked.

Sokka let his head fall back against the seat. “Fine.”

The rest of the ride was quiet. Sokka directed Zuko to pull up in front of his complex, not caring about how tiny and cheap it probably looked. He unbuckled his seatbelt and then didn’t move.

“Sokka,” Zuko said. Sokka didn’t turn to face him. “I’m here for you. If you need help with anything, please ask.” 

Sokka could hear what Zuko wasn’t saying- that Zuko saw his struggles, that it was clear Sokka wasn’t able to support Katara, that Zuko felt sorry enough for them both to offer help to someone he barely knew. Sokka knew he should be upset, but he couldn’t bring himself to direct any of the hatred boiling deep in his stomach towards Zuko, so he kept it in, let it gnaw on his insides. 

“Thank you,” Sokka said softly. He turned to Zuko and smiled, trying to put effort into the expression. “I appreciate it. I’m alright, though.” He reached behind him to grab the door handle and said, “Thank you for the ride.”

“Anytime, Sokka.”

Sokka nodded and opened the door, stepping out into the cold. 

Zuko’s car idled until Sokka had unlocked the front gate and stepped inside. Sokka walked slowly over to the stairs, listening to Zuko’s engine quietly start back up and then slowly fade away. He dragged his feet up to the second story and down to his apartment door.

Outside of it, Sokka paused, poised himself with a grin, and pushed it open to greet his little sister and his best friend. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sokka curled himself around Katara, holding her close to his chest. She’d pulled the blankets up over both of them so they were wrapped in a cocoon. They were watching a cartoon, some new show on some kids network- Sokka couldn’t keep up with them, but he didn’t care so much about what they were watching as he did about how much Katara seemed to be enjoying it. So Sokka sat and watched the show with her, laughing when she did and zoning out when there was an idle moment. 

It was getting late. Sokka would have to get up to make Katara something for dinner soon, but it had been awhile since he’d had a night off, and the couch seemed to have gotten five times more comfortable in his absence. He leaned back into the cushions, clutching Katara close to his side. She was a steady, comforting weight against him; Sokka regretted how little time he’d been able to spend with her lately.

When a commercial break came Sokka sighed and ruffled Katara’s hair. “Scooch over, kitty cat,” he said, pushing the blankets off his legs. “I’ve got to make you something for dinner.” 

“What are you making?” Katara asked, rolling on her stomach to watch him as Sokka walked over to the kitchen.

Sokka yawned, stretching his arms over his head. He was exhausted, but that wasn’t anything different from usual. Sokka was tired all the time now. He’d pretty much gotten used to it.

“Whatever you want,” Sokka said. He opened the fridge and peered inside. “We’ve got leftover chicken and rice from last night, or we could go with a classic PB&J. What’s tickling your fancy?” 

“Whatever you want to eat, Sokka.”

“I’m not hungry, bug-a-boo.” Sokka grabbed the Tupperware of chicken and rice, peeling the lid off and glancing inside. If he paired it with some carrot sticks that’d be more than enough for Katara. 

Whatever Katara was about to say next was interrupted by a knock on the door. Sokka looked at it with a frown; Suki and Toph hadn’t said anything about coming over, and that about completed the list of people who would normally be at their door.

“I’ll get it,” Katara said, scrambling to untangle herself from the blankets.

“No, stay there,” Sokka said. He dropped the Tupperware on the counter and rounded it to head for the front door. Sokka grabbed the handle and tugged it open just a crack, peeking outside.

“Uh, hello,” said a familiar figure on the other side. They raised their hand in a wave. “Zuko here.”

Sokka blinked and pulled open the door. He heard a thud behind him, and then Katara shouted, “Zuko!” and rocketed past Sokka to throw herself at the other boy’s legs.

Zuko laughed and awkwardly patted her shoulder. He was holding an oversized white plastic bag in one hand, and Sokka was immediately struck by the scent of something greasy and salty. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked as Katara released Zuko and beamed up at him.

“Sorry, I was going to call you to let me up but some old lady let me into the gate and pointed me up here. You don’t have great security,” Zuko said, looking apologetic.

“Zuko,” Katara said, bouncing on her toes, “stay there, I have to go get something!” 

She spun on her heel and ran away, disappearing into her bedroom. Zuko gestured with the hand holding the bag and said, “Can I come in?”

Sokka was too stunned to do anything other than step back and let Zuko in. He closed the door behind him, watching Zuko glance around the small conjoined kitchen and living room.

“It’s not much,” Sokka said, because he wasn’t sure what else to say.

“It’s cozy,” Zuko said, his voice firm.

Katara ran back out of the bedroom holding all of her stuffed animals. “Look, Zuko, it’s Nari,” she said, holding out the sea otter. “And this is Ena and this is Kiki. They’re all really good friends now, Nari’s really happy here.”

“He sure looks like it.” Zuko set the plastic bag on the kitchen table and bent at the waist to look at all the stuffed animals. “It’s very nice to meet you all.”

Katara giggled, hugging all of the toys closer. Sokka wandered over to the table and tugged at the bag, peeking inside curiously.

“I hope you both like Chinese food,” Zuko said. “I got way too much to eat all by myself, so I decided to come share it.”

“We love Chinese food,” Katara said, jumping enthusiastically into the air. “Sokka, did you hear him? Chinese food!”

“Oh, I heard him,” said Sokka. His first instinct was to be annoyed with Zuko for overspending on them _again_ , but a bigger part of him was just relieved he wouldn’t have to put any effort into dinner tonight. “Why don’t you go put your stuffies away while we sort out all this food?”

“Kay!” Katara said, spinning around and running back to the bedroom.

Sokka shot a look at Zuko, who smiled a little sheepishly and said, “I hope you don’t mind?”

“You’re lucky I like Chinese food,” Sokka said.

Sokka got plates for them all and a fork for Katara. Zuko pulled out a literal feast from the bag- rice and chow mein and steamed vegetables and orange chicken and egg rolls. Sokka watched it all appear with wide eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten something that he hadn’t made himself, and Sokka was the first to admit he wasn’t a very good cook. 

“Zuko, Zuko, Zuko,” Katara said, bouncing up and down as Sokka put a generous portion of everything on a plate for her, “Guess what we learned about in school? Sea animals!” 

“Really? Which ones?”

“Mostly dolphins,” Katara said, “but I told everyone that I went to the aquarium and saw real-life otters, and they were super jealous! I even brought Nari in the next day to show everyone!” 

“Wow,” Zuko said. “That sounds like a lot of fun.”

Sokka handed off the plate to Katara and said with a warning in his voice, “Don’t spill.” 

Katara took the plate. “Sokka,” she said, looking up at him with slightly wild blue eyes. Sokka felt a little guilty; maybe she’d been cooped up too long if she was getting this riled up about a change in routine. “Can Zuko watch tv with us while we eat?”

Sokka glanced at Zuko, who just smiled at him. “Sure, kitty cat,” he said. “If Zuko wants.” 

“I wanna watch Sofia the First,” Katara said, practically skipping back over to the couch. 

Sokka picked up his own plate. “That stunt at the aquarium really worked,” Sokka said in a low voice to Zuko. “You’re like, her hero now.” 

“You need to introduce her to some better role models.” Zuko scooped rice onto his plate and glanced at Sokka. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine.” Sokka grabbed an egg roll. “You?”

“Fine.” Zuko reached past Sokka to grab a pair of chopsticks from the bag. “Professor Lily’s been asking about you.”

Sokka didn’t look up from the table. “Oh,” he said. 

From the couch, Katara said, “Come _on_ , it’s about to start!”

Zuko turned to go. As he passed Sokka he touched his arm, squeezing gently. Sokka froze with a forkful of chow mein in hand, embarrassed by the way his heart rate picked up at the touch. 

“I want to sit in the middle,” Katara announced as they joined her at the couch. She’d already shoved aside all of the blankets to clear a space for them and had flipped the channel to what Sokka recognized as ‘the princess show.’ “Zuko, you sit here. Sokka, you’re here.”

“Alright, your highness,” Sokka said, sinking down into his designated space next to Katara.

“This show is about a girl who becomes a princess when her mom marries the king,” Katara informed Zuko as he sat down next to her. “The other princesses come and help her learn how to do it.”

“Being a princess sounds hard,” Zuko said. “I don’t know if I could do it.”

“It’s okay, Sofia doesn’t know at first, either,” Katara said, “but she learns. It’s all about being honest and compassionate.”

Sokka listened to Katara and Zuko chat with a smile. He unwrapped his chopsticks and pulled them apart, then plucked up a piece of orange chicken. He raised it up and sniffed it, closing his eyes and letting the sweet scent wash over him. Sokka was around food all the time at work, but Mongke was strict about letting employees eat on the clock. The only food Sokka got was what he managed to sneak when the cooks weren’t looking, and lately he hadn’t wanted to risk his position unnecessarily. 

In fact, Sokka couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. He paused with the chicken halfway to his mouth, realizing distantly that he should probably be a little concerned about that. Then he brushed it off and popped the chicken into his mouth, closing his mouth again to savor the sticky sweetness. It wasn’t like he’d been particularly hungry recently, and he was eating _now_ , at least. 

“This is the theme song,” Katara said when the characters started to sing. She shoveled a forkful of rice into her mouth and then said in a muffled voice, “It’s my favorite part.”

“Katara,” Sokka said around the noodles he’d just taken a bite of, “no talking with your mouth full.”

Katara swallowed and turned her head to pull a face at him. “You just did it.”

Sokka pointed a chopstick at himself. “Adult.” He jabbed it towards Katara. “Baby.”

“I am not a baby!” 

“Goodness,” Zuko said, grinning at Sokka over the top of Katara’s head. “I didn’t know you had such awful table manners.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sokka said, “would you like me to go and fetch our finest China for you?”

“Hm,” Zuko said, thinking it over. “That’s alright. Your Sunday China will do.”

“Guys,” Katara whined as Sokka snickered. “You’re missing the whole song!”

Sokka and Zuko dutifully went back to paying attention. Sokka ate most of what was on his plate, savoring the greasiness of it all. Katara continued making commentary about the show to Zuko, who met each of her statements and questions with genuine interest. Sokka listened to them as he ate, curling his legs underneath him and sinking back into the couch cushions. 

Halfway through the show Katara pointed at Zuko’s chopsticks and said, “How do you use those?” 

“Oh, it’s actually pretty easy,” said Zuko. He balanced his plate on his knee and set one chopstick down, holding the other up. “You hold the first one like a pencil, like this-” He demonstrated it, letting Katara peer in closely. “And then you put the other one on top and hold it like this. Then when you move this finger, they open and close so you can pick up stuff. Want to try?”

“Yeah,” Katara said, grabbing for Zuko’s chopsticks eagerly. She fumbled with them for a moment and Zuko chuckled, reaching out to gently correct her fingers until she was almost holding them right.

“There,” he said. He held his plate out to Katara. “Try to pick something up.” 

Katara reached over and tried to pick up a piece of chicken. It slipped out of the sticks immediately and she frowned.

“It’s alright, it took me a long time to get it right,” said Zuko. “Do you want your own pair to practice with?” 

“You have more?”

“I’m sure we can scrounge a pair up.” Zuko stood up and set his plate on the coffee table, walking back over to the kitchen table. He rifled through the bag for a moment before returning with a new pair of wooden chopsticks. 

“The key is to keep practicing.” Zuko pulled the paper off and handed the conjoined sticks to Katara. “My uncle always told me that practice is the best master.”

Katara turned the sticks over in her hand. “They’re stuck together.”

“That’s the fun part,” Sokka piped up. “You get to break them. Just grab them and pull.”

Katara curled her fingers around both the chopsticks, elbows braced perpendicular, and pulled. They separated with a snap that made her jump, nearly spilling the plate of food in her lap. Sokka, who had been half-anticipating that, swooped in in time to steady it.

“Like this?” Katara asked Zuko, showing him her clumsy grip on the chopsticks. 

“That’s perfect.” Zuko smiled at her. “You’re a natural.”

Katara twisted to beam proudly at Sokka. “Look,” she said, holding up her chopstick grip to him. She leaned forward to poke at the sleeve of Sokka’s hoodie, trying to grab it.

“Hey, kitty cat, you’re supposed to grab your food with those, not your brother,” Sokka said, lifting his arm out of her reach. Katara just giggled and picked the string of Sokka’s hoodie as her new target, leaning forward to try and grab it. Sokka shifted, jarring the chopsticks into his chest.

“Oh,” Sokka said, tipping his head back against the pillows and grabbing dramatically at the place Katara had hit. “She got me! I’m wounded, oh, this is the end for me-”

“I didn’t poke you that hard,” Katara said, laughing.

“Ohh,” Sokka said, stretching a hand up towards the ceiling, “I think I see the light!” 

Katara poked him again, then said, “I’m going to go try and grab noodles!” She slid off the couch, putting her mostly empty plate on the coffee table and running back to the containers of food. 

Sokka lifted his head back up to find Zuko smiling at him. Sokka raised an eyebrow at him, bemused by the expression on his face. “What?”

“You’re still cute,” Zuko said. 

Sokka stared at him in surprise for a moment, then felt a grin soften his face. Behind him he could hear Katara laughing to herself as she tried to pick up pieces of food with her new chopstick skills. 

Sokka ran his eyes over Zuko’s face, drinking him in. Sokka realized with a sharp pang that he’d missed Zuko terribly. Sokka really hadn’t had time to go to Intro to Theatre recently, unable to justify all that time spent on a class he didn’t need, but Sokka did miss seeing him twice a week.

Before Sokka could voice any of this, Katara popped back in front of them. She was still holding her chopsticks aloft. “Zuko,” she said. “Have you seen Moana?”

“I don’t think I have.”

Katara gasped and turned to Sokka with wide eyes. “Sokka!”

“That’s a crime, Zuko,” Sokka said gravely. “Moana’s the best movie in the whole wide world.”

“It’s about a girl who can control water,” Katara said, “and a demigod and a pig! Do you want to watch it, Zuko? We can have a movie night!”

“Katara,” Sokka said, “Zuko probably can’t stay too long.”

“Actually,” Zuko said. He glanced at Sokka, looking a little uncertain, then continued, “I don’t have anything else to do tonight. I could stay, if it’s alright with your brother.”

Katara spun so quickly her braid nearly slapped her in the face. “Sokka,” she said, “can we have a movie night? Please?”

Sokka had been looking forward to going to bed early, but the combination of making Katara that happy _and_ having Zuko stay longer was too intoxicating to resist.

“Of course he can, kitty cat,” Sokka said. “Before we start, though, you have to go wash up and change into your jammies.” 

Katara dropped the chopsticks on the coffee table. “I’ll go super fast,” she assured Zuko, then turned to run back to the bedroom. 

“Best movie in the whole wide world, huh?” Zuko asked, looking amused. 

Sokka shrugged. “It’s actually pretty good.” He stood up, grabbing Katara’s empty plate and stacking it on his. He held his hand out for Zuko’s. “If you like musicals.”

“Thanks.” Zuko passed his plate to Sokka. “I don’t like musicals that much, actually.”

“Really?” Sokka asked over his shoulder as he went to drop everything off in the sink. The kitchen table was still a mess, but Sokka didn’t feel like bothering with it right now. “Aren’t they the same as plays?”

“They absolutely are not,” Zuko said, sounding insulted, and Sokka turned his back to hide his grin. He’d missed Zuko getting all riled up about theatre. “They’re completely different stylistically.”

“I just don’t see how Alcestis was that different than Annie.”

“Oh, my god,” Zuko said as Sokka came to rejoin him on the couch. He was looking at Sokka like Sokka had just stepped on a bug and was trying to show the underside of his shoe to him. “You did not just compare Euripides to Annie.”

“You have to admit that Daddy Warbucks was pretty hot.”

Zuko pulled a face. “You’re actually clinically insane.”

“Come on,” Sokka said, leaning back against the couch and kicking his bare feet up on the coffee table. “You’re not into bald rich guys?”

“I prefer my men with hair, actually.” Zuko kicked out his own foot to knock Sokka’s feet off the table. “Seriously, Sokka, manners.”

“You’re no fun.” 

Zuko raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

Sokka felt warmth flood his chest at the slant of Zuko’s eyes as he looked at him. Sokka cleared his throat, suddenly very warm, but before he had to try and come up with a response to that Katara burst back out of the bedroom wearing her pajamas and carrying the stuffed otter.

Katara turned the living room light off, then hurried over to the couch. “Here,” she said, setting the animal down next to Zuko. “Nari can sit with us.” 

“What am I, chopped liver?” Sokka muttered as Katara hopped up and dragged the blankets with her. He grabbed an edge of a blanket to pull it up over Katara and himself and leaned forward to snag the remote off the coffee table. He switched the input over to the DVD player which, as always, was pre-loaded with Moana. 

“You’re going to like it,” Katara said to Zuko. “It has lots of cool songs.”

Sokka snorted and quickly disguised it as a cough. Zuko shot him a look over the top of Katara’s head like he was trying to be irritated but couldn’t quite push down a smile, and then turned back to the screen to nod along to Katara’s descriptions of the opening scene. 

Sokka threw an arm over the back of the sofa and leaned back, relaxing into the worn cushions. He’d seen Moana enough times to recite the whole thing from heart, so he didn’t have to worry too hard about paying attention. Instead he sat back and listened with one ear to the film and with one to Katara’s running commentary. It had taken some for Sokka to get adjusted to that habit of hers, but Zuko seemed to be taking it in stride, and was actually keeping up quite well with the storyline.

Only a short way into the film Katara migrated, shifting so she could lean up against Sokka’s side. Sokka brought his arm down around her shoulders, checking reflexively to make sure she was still covered by the blanket. She carried on talking for a chunk of time longer before her words started to slow and her head fell against Sokka’s chest. Katara curled one fist into the fabric of Sokka’s shirt, clutching it tight. 

When she had been quiet for several minutes, Sokka looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, face pressed into Sokka’s chest as she dozed. Sokka brought his hand up to brush through her hair, smiling down at her softly, then glanced over at Zuko. 

Zuko was already watching them. He was lit only by the glow of the television screen, the angle casting a shadow across his scarred eye. He was curled up underneath one of Sokka’s blankets, Nari tucked up beside him. 

They looked at each other for a moment. Then, Sokka looked once more at Katara and said quietly, “We made it almost halfway through this time.”

“I’m impressed,” Zuko said, his voice as hushed as Sokka’s.

Sokka carefully pushed himself into a seated position, taking care not to jar his sleeping sister. “I’ll get her to bed,” he whispered to Zuko, pulling the blankets back. He turned so he could wrap his arms around Katara and hoist her up, holding her steady with his hip as he stood up. Her arms reflexively wrapped around Sokka’s neck to hang onto him, but she didn’t seem to wake. 

Sokka turned to head to the bedroom, but paused when Zuko said, “Wait.” Sokka turned to see Zuko holding Nari out to him.

Sokka took it in his free hand. He let his gaze linger on Zuko for a moment, on how soft he looked in that lighting, and then turned to go.

Sokka carried Katara carefully to her bed. He set her down, guiding her head onto her pillow. Her eyes remained closed the whole time, even as she grabbed the sea otter and hugged it close to her chest. Sokka pulled the blankets over her and then stood up.

“Night, Katara,” he whispered, picking his way around the toys left scattered on the floor. He turned the lights off and slipped back out into the living room. 

The movie was still playing. Zuko looked up from the screen as Sokka sat back down on the couch, this time closer towards the middle. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t pause it,” Zuko said. 

“I’ll survive,” said Sokka. He curled his legs underneath him and tugged the blanket back over him. “What’d I miss?” 

“I think that rooster is going to turn into a prince at the end.”

Sokka snorted. “Of course you do.”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense. Of course, it’s been awhile since I’ve watched a children’s film. I don’t know how good I am at these kinds of predictions.”

“This is the only movie I watched for two months straight last year.”

“That’s rough, buddy,” Zuko said. “Do you want to change it?” 

Sokka tilted his head to the side and squinted at the screen. “Nah,” he said. “It grows on you.” 

Zuko shifted, pulling his legs up underneath him. When he resettled his shoulder was pressed against Sokka’s. Sokka let himself relax into the touch, leaning into Zuko.

“Hey,” he said after a few quiet minutes of movie watching.

“Hm?”

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

Sokka tipped his head to the side, resting it on Zuko’s shoulder. “I don’t know,” he said. “The food. Being here. Being you.” 

“You’re thanking me for being myself?” Zuko’s arm moved under Sokka, jostling him for a moment before wrapping around him. Sokka reclined even further against Zuko, bringing one arm up to wrap around his waist.

“Mostly the food,” Sokka said, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of Zuko’s sweater. Cinnamon and warm cologne. 

“Oh, of course,” Zuko said. Sokka could hear the smile in his voice. Zuko let his fingers stroke slowly down Sokka’s arm. Sokka took a few breaths, steadying himself to the rhythm of Zuko’s heartbeat.

Sokka lifted his head. Zuko turned away from the screen to look at Sokka, then blinked as though surprised by how close their faces were. Sokka could feel Zuko’s breath on his mouth and dropped his eyes to look at the curves of his lips. 

Sokka wasn’t sure who leaned in first. All he knew was that suddenly they were kissing, that Sokka was twisting to put both his hands on Zuko’s hips, that Zuko’s fingers had dropped so he had one hand cradling Sokka’s head and one pressed into his lower back. The kiss was fierce from the start, open-mouthed, a bit desperate. Sokka caught Zuko’s bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, and Zuko sucked in shared air, twisting to push Sokka down until his back was arched and he was gasping at the pressure of Zuko shifting his hips for a better angle. 

Sokka brought his hands up to cup Zuko’s cheeks. He ran one thumb over smooth skin, the other over the textured edges of his scar. His fingers wandered up to Zuko’s temples, smooth and rough, feeling almost reverent as he touched him. Zuko’s mouth was warm against his, lips matching Sokka’s speed and earnestness. Sokka wondered if he’d felt this too, this ache, this deep pressure in his gut that wanted to pull Zuko closer, strip him and pull him tight to Sokka and never let him go. 

Zuko’s hand slipped under Sokka’s hoodie, warm fingers wandering across his bare skin. Sokka shivered. It was dangerously easy to lose himself in Zuko’s touch, easy to forget why he’d been so tired and stressed for the past few weeks, easy to forget how many things he had to do, easy to forget Mongke and Hama and Katara in the next room-

Sokka jerked away from Zuko’s mouth with a gasp. Zuko’s hands went still, curled against Sokka’s bare skin.

“Are you alright?” he whispered. The television was still playing Moana.

Sokka suddenly felt lightheaded. He eased himself out from underneath Zuko, who immediately pulled his hands back and away. The Chinese food Sokka had eaten was rolling in his stomach, and for a moment he wondered if he was going to throw up.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

He didn’t have to look to tell that Zuko was frowning. “Sokka, what-?”

“I can’t do this,” said Sokka. He stood up, unable to bear the warmth of the couch cushions or the blanket or Zuko, who was still sitting there and watching him. Sokka could feel his gaze like a hot iron, pressing on Sokka’s neck until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

Zuko had gotten up as well. “Sokka, I didn’t mean to pressure you-”

“No,” Sokka said, shaking his head so vigorously it made him slightly unsteady. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong, you- you’ve been so incredible, it’s not you, it’s- it’s me, I’m not- not-”

“Not what?”

Sokka shook his head. He squeezed his eyes shut against the warmth pooling there. “I can’t,” he said. “I just- can you please go?”

Footsteps started to approach him. Sokka took a reflexive step back and they paused.

“Please,” Sokka whispered. 

Several more seconds passed. Then Sokka heard Zuko moving away, heard him walk to the kitchen table to grab his phone and his keys. Sokka stood in the middle of the room with his back to Zuko, gripping his arms so tightly he could feel his nails through his hoodie, shivering in the sudden cold. When the front door opened and then closed Sokka let out a single choked sob.

Nausea curled deep in his stomach. Hoping Katara hadn’t heard any of that, Sokka stumbled across the room to the bathroom, slipping in and shutting the door tight behind him. Without bothering to turn on the light Sokka moved forward until his knees hit the toilet and he sank down in front of it. As soon as his head was over the bowl he felt something tug in his gut. He gripped the cold porcelain tight as he vomited, purging the Chinese food from his system, choking on the acidic taste.

When Sokka felt like he’d thrown up all of the food and several of his internal organs as well, he slumped against the toilet. Eyes shut, cheek pressed against the cold porcelain, Sokka shut his eyes and let himself drift miserably, trying hard not to think about Zuko and the startled look on his face when Sokka had pulled away.

Sokka couldn’t bring himself to go to bed that night. He stayed where he was, dozing on the cold bathroom floor until light began to peek in through the small bathroom window. Then he dragged himself to his feet, washed his face off with cold water, and went to the kitchen to try to find something to make Katara for breakfast. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It rained on Friday and Saturday. On Sunday the day dawned clear and bright, and when Suki and Toph texted to ask him if he wanted to join them in the park, Sokka figured it was a good opportunity to get Katara out of the house.

He made sure that she was bundled up in a thick sweater and hat, because it was still chilly outside despite the sun, and then they walked hand in hand to the park a few blocks from their apartment complex. 

Suki and Toph were seated on one of the benches waiting for them. They waved as they approached, and Katara bounced up on her toes and tugged Sokka forward excitedly.

“Hey Katara,” Suki said, smiling at her. She’d tied her hair back out of her face, and was wearing a thick green sweater and jeans. “How has your weekend been?” 

“We’ve been inside the whole time cause of the rain,” Katara said, “but we watched so many movies! Last night we had pizza!” 

“Sounds fun,” Suki said. Sokka glanced at Toph, who hadn’t said anything and was instead staring straight ahead, mouth pressed into a tight line. Sokka felt the first curl of uneasiness in his stomach.

Katara tugged on Sokka’s hand, drawing his attention back to her. “Could you push me on the swings?”

“Actually, Katara,” Suki said, “we sort of wanted to borrow your big brother for a little bit to talk about a few things. Is that okay?”

Katara stuck her lower lip out in a pout but released Sokka’s hand. “Okay,” she said. “Come push me when you’re done!”

She spun around and ran to the playground. Sokka watched her go, feeling his heart quicken in his chest. He didn’t know what his friends wanted, but he knew he didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now.

“I should probably go keep an eye on her,” he said.

At that, Toph finally spoke. “Sit your ass down, pretty boy.”

Damn it. Sokka sighed and sank down onto the bench next to Toph, keeping space between them in case this got violent. That was always a possibility with Toph. “What?”

“How are you doing, Sokka?” Suki asked. She was looking at him with clear concern. Sokka wondered if he looked as rough as he felt. 

“Fine,” he said, not in the mood to get into it.

“Bullshit,” said Toph.

Sokka frowned at her. “Excuse me?”

“I said that’s bullshit,” said Toph. Her words were relatively calm for how stony her expression was.

“Alright, fine,” Sokka said. “I’m a little bit tired. Work has been hard recently. Happy?”

“We know something’s going on,” Suki said as Toph’s face hardened even more. “You look exhausted, Sokka.” 

Sokka knew that. He’d stopped looking for very long at his own reflection recently, unable to stand the circles under his eyes or the empty expression he couldn’t seem to shake no matter how much he practiced his smiles.

“We’re your friends,” Suki said. “We want to help you, with more than just babysitting Katara.”

Sokka glanced over at the playground where Katara had taken over one of the swings and was pumping herself higher into the air. “I’m just tired,” he said, watching her braid fly in the wind.

“Stop fucking lying to us.”

“What do you want from me, Toph?” Sokka asked, exasperated.

“I want you to tell the truth! I want to know why you haven’t been texting us recently, or why you’ve been taking all these weird ass shifts at work, or why Zuko’s been-”

“Zuko?” Sokka sat up straight as though someone had touched a bolt of electricity to the base of his spine. “How the fuck do you know about Zuko?”

Toph paused. A look of regret briefly crossed her face before her brow furrowed with renewed determination. “Remember that girl I’ve been dating, Mai?” Sokka nodded even though Toph couldn’t see him. “Zuko’s a friend of hers. We run into each other occasionally.”

“Okay,” Sokka said. He could feel his face warming. He’d been trying very hard not to think about Zuko all weekend, but he’d never considered that one of his _best friends_ could be- “So you all get together and gossip about me? Is that what’s happening now?”

“Oh, shut up,” said Toph. “Obviously not. I mentioned your name once and he told me that he knew you from class. That’s it.”

“And you didn’t tell me about this why?”

“Because I never fucking see you anymore,” Toph said, raising her voice. She jabbed a finger at Sokka and said, “Because you don’t talk to us about anything that’s going on with your life! I’ve gotten more information out of Zuko, and he’s hardly said three words to me all weekend! What the fuck happened between you two?”

Sokka tilted his chin up. “If you and Zuko are so close all of a sudden, why don’t you go ask him?” 

“Because he respects your fucking privacy, dumbass,” Toph snapped. “He hasn’t told anyone what happened, but he’s been moping around Mai’s apartment all weekend like someone took his dog out back and shot it.”

Sokka felt himself deflate, renewed guilt dulling any anger he felt. “Oh.”

“That’s enough,” Suki said sharply when Toph opened her mouth, seemingly to shout again. She looked across her at Sokka and frowned. “Sokka, what’s going on?” 

Sokka brought a hand up to run across his face. God, he was tired. “I messed up,” he admitted.

“How so?” Suki asked. The patience in her voice made Sokka want to be sick. He didn’t deserve that kind of patience.

“I shouldn’t have gotten involved with him,” Sokka said. “I shouldn’t have gone to that stupid party, or hung out with him, or kissed him-”

“You guys kissed again?” Toph asked.

“I shouldn’t have let it happen,” Sokka said miserably. “I was tired, and I wasn’t thinking straight.” 

“Okay,” Suki said. “So you kissed Zuko, but you feel bad because you don’t have feelings for him?” 

Sokka dropped his head into his hands. Next to him, Toph said, “You _do_ have feelings for him.” 

“Of course I do,” Sokka said, voice muffled by his palms. “He’s so- but I’m so- I’m a fucking mess. I can’t drag him into this.” 

“He already knows about Katara, right?” Suki asked.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know-” Sokka bit down on his tongue, hard enough that it stung. 

“He doesn’t know what?” Suki’s voice was so gentle it made Sokka’s eyes prickle with heat.

Sokka raised his head from his hands and looked at his friends. Suki looked concerned, and Toph’s expression had softened, losing some of that sharp irritation, and suddenly Sokka ached to tell them everything, to spill every awful thought that sent him spiraling every time he was left alone in his own company for too long, about the stacks of unpaid bills and how he couldn’t buy Katara anything and how even thinking about food was enough to make his stomach tighten until it felt like he was going to be sick.

“Money’s been… tight, recently,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “That’s why I’ve been taking extra hours. It’s just been… overwhelming.”

“Is that it?” Suki sounded relieved. “Sokka, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I’ve got it handled,” said Sokka. “Mongke’s been giving me jobs on the side. I’m fine.”

“And what about Zuko?” Toph asked.

“What about him?”

“Have you talked to _him_ about any of this, or are you just doing that thing where you pull away from everyone and don’t explain why?” 

Sokka glared at her, but he couldn’t bring himself to argue with that. She’d known him for far too long. 

“Zuko doesn’t need to be bothered with all of my shit,” he said. “He’s got- he’s got an internship at a law firm and a plan for the future and- and he wears fucking cashmere, just because he can. I can’t bring him into my problems. I just can’t.”

“Uh huh,” Toph said, sounding unimpressed. “And you’re just deciding this for him?” 

Sokka frowned. “What?” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe Zuko wouldn’t _mind_ hearing about your problems?” 

“I know he wouldn’t mind,” Sokka said. “That’s why I can’t do it, it’s not fair.”

“Wow, you’ve got a lot of excuses prepared,” said Toph. 

“Sokka,” Suki said before Sokka could snap anything he’d regret at Toph. “I don’t know Zuko, but it sounds like he really cares about you. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if you let him in, just a little bit. Talk to him about all of this. You might be surprised.”

Sokka sighed. Some part of him, the logical part that he knew he should probably listen to more often, was agreeing with his friends. After that stunt he’d pulled a few nights ago, he at least owed Zuko an explanation. And if that meant letting him know just how fucked up Sokka actually was… maybe it’d be worth it, if Zuko could understand why they could never be an actual thing. 

“You’re right,” he said.

“Of course we’re right,” said Toph.

Sokka wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly chilly despite the lack of a breeze. “Is he alright?” he asked quietly, half-nervous for a response.

Toph shook her head. “I’m not saying anything,” she said. “If you want to know how he is, then you have to talk to him.”

That… was probably fair.

“Sokka, the next time that you’re struggling like this, you need to tell us,” said Suki. “We care about you and Katara. We want to help.” 

“You’ve both helped enough,” Sokka said. “Seriously, thank you for being there for Katara. It means a lot that you’ve been watching her so much, especially since I haven’t… I know I haven’t been the best friend recently.”

“You’ve got a lot on your plate,” said Suki. “We’re here for you _and_ Katara. You don’t have to do this all on your own.” 

Sokka opened his mouth, then closed it, unable to tell them the truth, that at the end of the day he _did_ have to do this on his own. He’d promised that he’d be able to support Katara the day he’d signed those papers, the day he’d stared that lady from CPS in the eye and told her that there was no way he was letting his baby sister get sucked into the system. He was supposed to be someone that Katara could depend on, not someone that went crawling to other people as soon as things got difficult. He _had_ to do this on his own. 

“Thank you,” he said instead. He couldn’t talk about any of that right now. He was too tired.

Toph punched his arm, not hard enough to bruise but harder than she normally did. “Idiot,” she said. Sokka couldn’t help but smile a bit at the fondness in her voice. 

“Sokka!” Sokka glanced over at the playground, where Katara was swinging in a high enough arch to make anxiety bite at Sokka’s throat. “Look!” 

Sokka stood up. “I need to go make sure she doesn’t break her neck.” He paused, glancing back at his friends. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I really appreciate you both.”

“Don’t get all sappy on us now, dork,” Toph said as Suki smiled at him.

Sokka grinned and then turned, heading over to pick his way through the playing children and try to convince his sister that she was already swinging high enough.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zuko always preferred to get to class early. He needed the time to make sure he had everything he needed and to organize his thoughts before the lecture started. When he arrived to Introduction to Theatre- he was one of the first to get there, as usual- he sat in his usual seat, pulled out his notebook and pen, and then went on his phone to check his emails while he waited for the other students to trickle in. 

A minute until class was due to start, Zuko was finishing up his review of an email his boss had sent out to everyone this morning. He scanned through all the pertinent information, trying to decide if he needed to head in later this afternoon, and then closed his phone and dropped it into his bag. He uncapped his pen just as the door swung open one more time, and then Zuko froze.

He hadn’t seen Sokka for the better part of a week. He’d half wondered if he would ever see him again. Zuko wasn’t sure what had happened that night, only that things had been going great, and then it had all fallen apart.

As soon as Sokka stepped through the classroom door Professor Lily was on her feet, stepping in close to speak to him. Zuko dropped his gaze back down to the empty page of his notebook, heart pounding in his chest. Sokka hadn’t been to class in nearly a month- why was he back now? Of course he’d decided to reinvest in his education just when Zuko wanted to see him least. 

Zuko uncapped his pen and set to work painstakingly writing the date at the top of the paper. He wrote it all out by hand, taking care to make sure each letter was neat, written the same size, spaced so that-

“Can I sit here?”

Zuko looked up. Sokka was standing in front of the empty seat next to Zuko, smiling awkwardly.

Zuko dropped his gaze back to the page. “Sure,” he said.

Sokka set his bag down and sat down next to Zuko. At the front of the class Professor Lily clapped her hands together and said, “So! Last week we were discussing the connection between the performers and the audience. Who remembers what the principle role of the audience is in theatre?” 

Zuko could feel Sokka’s eyes on him. He hunched lower over his page, writing without remotely processing anything that was being said. Zuko felt warm all over. His heart was still pounding.

“Zuko,” Sokka said in a quiet voice.

“After class.” Zuko didn’t know what Sokka wanted to say to him, but he knew he’d need some time to brace himself for it. Was Sokka going to apologize for what had happened a few nights ago? Was he going to ask _Zuko_ to apologize? Zuko had thought he’d been reading the signs right, but obviously something had gone wrong. Until Zuko could figure out what that was, he had no idea whether he was supposed to be mad at Sokka or himself. 

Class passed by unbearably slowly. Normally Zuko enjoyed Professor Lily’s ramblings, but today he couldn’t focus on anything except Sokka beside him- tapping his foot, fiddling with his bag, sneaking his phone out of his pocket when he thought no one was paying attention. Zuko kept his eyes fixed on his paper and tried to block him out, tried to resist the urge to shout at everyone to shut up and drag Sokka out of the classroom so he could finally get some answers. 

Zuko didn’t do any of that. He sat quietly and took notes the best he could, and when Professor Lily announced that she was done for the day he slipped his notebook and pen back into his bag and stood up.

Sokka scrambled to get up beside him. “Can I walk you to your car?” he asked, sounding so desperate it made Zuko’s chest tighten despite his resolve to remain unbothered. 

“I won’t stop you,” said Zuko. He turned and walked away, stepping around his classmates and heading to the door.

Sokka followed a step behind him as Zuko walked out into the hall. They walked quietly for a few moments until they reached the side door and stepped out into the parking lot. It was cloudy today, overcast enough that the world was cast in shades of gray.

“Zuko,” Sokka said. Zuko stopped and turned to face him.

When Sokka got nervous, he fidgeted. Zuko watched him fiddle with the strap of his bag, scuff his shoes against the pavement, glance nervously from Zuko’s face to the ground and back again.

“I want to apologize for, uh… a few nights ago,” he said. “I shouldn’t have just kicked you out like that. I’m so sorry.”

Making eye contact made Zuko’s chest hurt. He dropped his gaze and said, “It’s alright. I apologize if I misread the situation.”

“No,” Sokka said. “No, I didn’t- you didn’t misread it.”

Zuko looked back up with a frown. “Then why-”

“I like you, Zuko,” Sokka said. It came out on a rush of air that made Zuko’s heart skip a beat. “I like you a lot.” 

Zuko swallowed. Despite what Toph had said, recent events had managed to convince him that whatever he had with Sokka was all in his head. 

Sokka’s brow furrowed tightly. “But I can’t- I don’t think I can give you what you want.”

Zuko crossed his arms. “I don’t recall telling you what I want.”

“Okay,” Sokka said. “What do you want?”

Zuko gripped his forearms tighter. He said, “I like you a lot, too.” 

Sokka’s tight frown loosened just a little bit. His lips lifted up in a half-smile before it faded again. “I have to prioritize taking care of Katara,” he said. “And as much as I like you, I just- I don’t think I can be enough for you _and_ her right now.”

Zuko narrowed his eyes, looking closer at Sokka. Sokka always looked a little tired, but Zuko was certain that the dark circles under his eyes were new. The tightness of his frown was unsettling; Zuko hadn’t known Sokka for very long, but he knew him well enough to sense a problem.

“Sokka,” he said, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. He remembered his uncle speaking to him much the same way when Zuko had first come to stay with him in high school, and although he’d been irritated by it at the time, he knew now that anything harsher would have broken him. Zuko was well enough acquainted with being at the end of your rope to see it in another person. “Is everything alright?”

Sokka’s mouth went even flatter. He looked at Zuko for a long, silent moment. Zuko desperately wished that he could read minds, that he could know what was wrong without Sokka having to say anything.

“I’m fine,” Sokka said. He quirked his lips up into a smile. Zuko could tell his heart wasn’t in it. “I just… I have a lot on my plate.”

Zuko swallowed down his disappointment. Whatever anger he’d felt about Sokka’s actions had abated, and had now been replaced by growing concern. He knew better than to push it, though. If something was seriously wrong, Zuko knew that Sokka would go to friends that were closer to him.

“Okay,” Zuko said. “I understand.” When Sokka just stared at him, Zuko said, “I can’t imagine what it’s like to try and support another person like you do. I understand if you don’t have time for a relationship.”

Zuko expected Sokka to look relieved. Instead, Sokka’s frown just deepened, and he said, “I really am sorry, Zuko.”

Zuko shook his head. Despite the tightness in his chest, he managed to smile. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “Shitty timing.” 

Sokka huffed out something that might have been a laugh if it didn’t sound so defeated. He scuffed the toe of his sneaker against the pavement, both hands tight around the strap of his bag.

“Is it selfish of me to ask if we can still be friends?” He wasn’t quite making eye contact with Zuko. “I totally understand if you want me to fuck off and never speak to you again, but-”

“I’d love to be your friend, Sokka,” said Zuko. At this, Sokka finally smiled, a real smile, and Zuko let it soothe some of the worry clawing at his throat. 

“Good,” Sokka said. “You’ve kind of grown on Katara, you know.”

Sokka’s eyes looked very blue against the grey sky behind him. “She’s grown on me, too,” said Zuko. 

Sokka was fine, Zuko reminded himself. It couldn’t be easy supporting a six-year-old by yourself. It was awful timing for them, but at least in this situation, Zuko could confidently say that he’d done nothing to sabotage the relationship. 

And if what Sokka needed right now was a friend, then Zuko could set his own feelings aside for long enough to support him. 

“Are you headed to work after this?” When Sokka nodded, Zuko said, “Do you want a ride?”

Zuko expected Sokka to refuse. Instead, Sokka hesitated, glanced at Zuko’s car, then turned back to Zuko and smiled. “I’d love one,” he said. 

Zuko wanted to kiss him. Instead he pushed down that urge until it was a dull ache in his stomach and pulled his keys out of his pocket. “I will be requiring a tip,” he said, unlocking the car and pulling open the door. 

Sokka laughed as he rounded to the other side. “Would a five star rating on Uber work?”

“I suppose that’ll do.” Zuko closed the door and started up the car while he waited for Sokka to buckle up beside him.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t even half of what Zuko wanted, but if this was all he could have right now, he could at least be grateful for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all I SWEAR this will have some comfort after the hurt... it'll just take a little bit!
> 
> Just got back from my trip so I'm looking forward to being able to write a little bit quicker. I really appreciate all of your feedback and will be sitting down tonight to respond to everything from the last chapter! I'm glad that this fic has resonated with so many of you- it's a personal one for me and I'm trying my hardest to give it everything I have, so I really appreciate the response it's received so far.
> 
> Take care of yourself- you're so loved and I appreciate you <3


	6. breaking point

One morning Sokka woke up with a headache and an annoyingly persistent sneeze. He sniffled his way through preparing Katara for school and walking her there, and by the time he’d shuffled across town to the Rough Rhino he was tired enough that he was nearly tempted to crawl under the deep fryers for a nap.

Sokka kept his head down for the rest of the day, trying to focus his straying attention on his job. Mongke was letting him work overtime again, which Sokka was far too grateful for to complain about. He’d had to miss his calculus class again, however; there had been a quiz today that Sokka hadn’t even bothered studying for. 

Sokka hadn’t been to any of his classes in weeks, and he’d been so inconsistent in his assignment completion that most of his professors had given up asking him for anything. He’d given up trying to scramble for decent grades. It was pretty much impossible for him to even pass a single one of his classes this semester. The smartest thing to do would be to withdraw his enrollment for the semester and try again when the next one started. 

Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Not going to classes meant he had far more time to work. He’d finally managed to catch up on his and Katara’s insurance payments, but now he had nowhere near enough prepared to pay rent at the end of the month. He’d have to beg Mongke for consistent overtime to even get close to what he needed. He’d definitely need to start looking for a second job. If he could find somewhere to work overnight, he might be able to save his weekends to spend with Katara. It’d be a tight schedule, but Sokka’s always been good at figuring out tough equations. 

So, Sokka would pull out of school and try again next semester. Once he and Katara were in a more stable position, he’d be able to focus on his classes once more.

Sokka’s headache was pounding by the time he’d finished for the day. He’d hung around after his shift to mop all the floors at the promise of some extra cash, and his shoulders ached as he poured the water out and put everything away. He stretched them out as he grabbed his bag and wandered over to Mongke’s tiny office, where the man was filling out paperwork.

“I finished the floors,” Sokka said, stopping in the doorway.

“Hm?” Mongke didn’t look up from his papers.

Sokka resisted the urge to cough on him out of spite. “I said I finished the floors.” Mongke raised his head to narrow his eyes at him. “Sir,” Sokka added.

Mongke grunted. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled bill that he shoved at Sokka. Sokka looked down at it, then back at Mongke.

“You said you’d give me twenty,” he said. 

“Ten.”

“But you said-”

“Keep wasting my time and I’m not giving you anything next time. You’re lucky I’m being this generous, paying you extra for doing your goddamn job.”

Sokka felt his cheeks burn. He wanted to argue but was far too exhausted to pick a fight he knew he wouldn’t win. He turned and left, tucking the ten dollars into his pocket, and tried to think of a new plan.

When it hit him later that evening, Sokka wondered how he’d been so stupid this long. He woke up early the next morning to do some preliminary research before making breakfast for Katara, orange juice and cereal and a bowl of chopped up strawberries. Sokka leaned against the counter as she ate, hunched over his phone and frowning at the tiny article he’d pulled up.

“Aren’t you eating breakfast, Sokka?” Katara asked. On the television screen, a laugh track was playing behind whatever cartoon she was watching.

“I ate earlier,” Sokka said without looking up from his phone. His voice came out a bit hoarse; he’d been up half the night coughing, and although the tickle that had been torturing him had mostly gone away his throat felt rubbed raw.

“Are you sick?” 

Sokka raised his gaze. Katara was staring at him, spoon clutched firmly in hand. Her brow was furrowed with worry, and Sokka immediately put his phone down and straightened up, guilty that he’d been caught slipping.

“I’ve just got the sniffles, kitty cat,” he said with a smile. “I’m alright.”

But Katara didn’t stop looking at him with that worried expression for the rest of the morning, all the way up until Sokka was dropping her off at school. He wondered when she’d stopped believing him.

Sokka went straight from Katara’s school to the Jasmine Dragon. When he’d texted Zuko last night to ask to talk to him, Zuko had told Sokka to meet him at his uncle’s tea shop the next day. Sokka hadn’t really thought too hard about it. Mostly he’d just been grateful for the chance to see Zuko, something he hadn’t gotten to do very much since they’d decided to just be friends. Katara still asked after Zuko almost daily, begging Sokka to invite him over for another playdate, but Sokka was wary of dragging Zuko back into his clusterfuck of a life. He’d already been shitty enough to the guy without putting him into any potentially emotionally compromising positions.

But Zuko had said that he wanted to still be Sokka’s friend, and Sokka thought he’d at least hear out the favor Sokka was asking of him.

When Sokka reached the Jasmine Dragon he stepped through the front door to the sound of bells jingling overhead. He glanced around the space, checking the tables for the familiar sight of Zuko ducked behind his laptop, before his gaze lighted on the strangest thing he’d ever seen. 

Zuko, dressed in a dark green t-shirt and tan apron, was standing over a table of elderly women. His hair was tied up out of his face and he was refilling one of the women’s cups from a steaming teapot. Sokka watched as he poured the tea gracefully and then set the pot down in the center of the table.

“Let me know if you need anything else, ladies,” Zuko said, stepping back and bowing to them. He straightened back up and turned to go, then locked gazes with Sokka. His eyes widened so quickly it was almost comical.

Zuko crossed the room to approach him. “Sokka,” he said. The straps of his apron flapped behind him as he walked.

“Well, well, well,” Sokka said, trying unsuccessfully to press back his grin. “I had no idea that you were a fellow customer service representative.”

Zuko pulled a face. He reached behind to tug at the knot in his apron. “It’s temporary.” He pulled his apron off as he walked over to one of the empty tables, yanking it over his head and balling it up. “Uncle,” he called across the room to the front counter of the shop, where the old man from before was chatting with a few other men. “I’m going on a break.”

The man simply raised his hand in a friendly wave and went back to his conversation.

“When did you first become interested in the tea business?” Sokka asked, dropping into a seat across from Zuko.

“Ha, ha,” Zuko said. “You’re hilarious.” He set his wrinkled apron ball on the table and leaned back in his seat, huffing out a sigh. “One of my uncle’s employees quit. I’m covering some of his shifts until he can find someone else.”

Sokka raised his eyebrows. “Damn, you’re a really good nephew.”

Zuko looked vaguely embarrassed. “I owe my uncle,” he said. “Besides, I worked here in high school. I’m used to the job.”

Sokka nodded. He tapped his fingers against his knee, suddenly nervous. “How have you been?”

“Fine,” Zuko said. “Busy. Professor Lily’s still asking about you, you know.”

Sokka bit his upper lip. “Yeah,” he said, “that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Can I ask you a favor?”

“Anything,” Zuko said without hesitation. Then he blinked, spots of pink appearing high in his unscarred cheek.

Sokka cleared his throat, gaze flicking briefly away from Zuko. “Uh,” he said. “You work at a law firm, right?”

“Yes.”

“How much do you know about wills?”

Zuko frowned. “That’s not typically what I work with,” he said slowly. “A bit, I guess. Why?”

Sokka took a deep breath. He didn’t particularly love the idea of laying his vulnerabilities out so plainly for Zuko, but it was Sokka’s best bet at potentially making this happen. 

“My dad didn’t have a lot of money,” he said. Better to rip the band-aid off all at once instead of trying to sugarcoat it. “He was on an army salary. Not much. He left a little bit of money for me and Katara to use generally, which is- gone now.” Sokka chose his words carefully, keeping a close eye on Zuko’s expression. When Zuko just looked curiously at him, he continued, “He had a little bit more saved away. He left it to me, but I can only use it to pay tuition at an accredited four year university.

“A conditional clause,” Zuko said, nodding. “Those are common enough.”

Sokka’s head still ached. He tapped his foot against the floor, suddenly unable to sit still despite his general exhaustion. “Is there any way to get around it?”

Zuko frowned. “What do you mean?”

“There’s not a lot in that fund anymore,” Sokka said. “I only get a bit each semester, but it’s how I’ve stayed in school this long. Is there any way that I can get the rest of the money out to use for something other than my tuition?” 

Sokka could hear Zuko’s uncle laughing from all the way across the room. It was very cold in the Jasmine Dragon, and Sokka felt like shivering despite his thick hoodie and jeans.

“How are you going to pay for your classes, then?” Zuko asked. Sokka hesitated, and Zuko’s face lightened with understanding.

“You’re dropping out of school,” he said. 

“If I don’t use the money for tuition, I’d like to be able to use it for something else.”

Zuko sat forward in his seat. He looked a little concerned now, the same way Katara had that morning. Sokka was getting tired of people looking at him like that.

“But you want to be an engineer,” Zuko said.

“Yeah, well, I don’t anymore. Do you think I could get the money?”

“It depends.” Zuko sounded uncertain. “It’d be difficult in this situation. There’s a lot of precedent for tuition-bound clauses holding up in court. It’s not an unreasonable stipulation.”

Sokka frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Sokka,” Zuko said. “Why do you want to drop out of school?”

It was way too bright in the teashop. Sokka crossed his arms and tried not to glare at Zuko. “I’m allowed to change my mind about things.”

“Well, yes, but-”

“So I can’t get the money?”

“I don’t know,” said Zuko. “I can ask around at the firm to see, but… it would be really difficult, and you’d need a good lawyer. Depending on how much money is in the fund, it would probably be cheaper to just let it go.”

Sokka swallowed back his disappointment. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up about this. 

“Sokka,” Zuko said. His hand had fallen to rest on the table, fingers half-stretched towards Sokka. Sokka tried not to stare at them, tried to resist the urge to grab them and pull Zuko close and make him hold Sokka until his headache went away. “What happened? Why are you leaving school?”

“I told you,” Sokka said. “I changed my mind.”

“But you enjoyed your classes.” 

“And I’d enjoy having that money a lot more,” Sokka snapped. The thick scent of tea leaves and something sickly sweet baking in the kitchen was making him nauseous. He pinched his knee under the table, trying to ground himself. 

Zuko was frowning deeply now. “Are you alright?” he asked. “You look a little…” 

“I’m fine.”

Zuko pushed his chair back. “I’ll go get you some tea and food.”

“No.” Sokka stood up so quickly his chair legs clattered against the floor. He gripped the edge of the table for a moment, stabilizing himself as his head pounded. 

“Sokka-”

“I’m going to be late for my shift,” Sokka said. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Zuko, too embarrassed at having even come here in the first place. What had he been thinking, trying to drag Zuko back into his problems? “Thanks for trying to help. I’m sorry that I wasted your break.” 

“Sokka, wait-”

But Sokka had turned to go. He hurried across the room, shoving through the front door, wincing as the bells grated against his ears. It was cold outside, but at least it felt like Sokka could breathe out here. He gulped at the chilly air, trying to calm his racing nerves.

Everything was fine. He’d just have to try and think of a different plan.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zuko watched Sokka go. He was tempted to run after him, to drag him back to the table and stuff him full of tea and muffins until Sokka finally told Zuko what the fuck was stressing him out so much. But Zuko knew that wasn’t his place, so all he could do was sit there and try not to get overwhelmed by his growing sense of helplessness as he watched Sokka disappear. 

“Your friend left in quite a hurry, nephew.”

Zuko looked up as Iroh sat down in Sokka’s vacated seat. Iroh leaned back in the chair, assessing Zuko. Zuko felt, as always, like his uncle had a laser stare, one that could see right through him.

“I assume that is the boy that has been consuming so much of your thoughts recently?” Iroh asked.

“I don’t know what to do, Uncle.” Zuko had run out of ideas, which meant it was time to go to his uncle for advice. Zuko had tried to refrain from sharing any of Sokka’s private business with anyone, but he was desperate for some kind of guidance. The situation felt too precarious, like one misstep from Zuko could send everything tumbling out of balance. “There’s something wrong, but I don’t know how to help.”

“It is difficult to give aid to someone who doesn’t want it.”

“I have to do something,” said Zuko.

Iroh looked at him closely. “You care a great deal about him.”

“And his sister,” Zuko said. He knew there was no point in lying to his uncle. Iroh had always had the uncanny ability to see right through him. 

Iroh nodded, expression very grave. “Sometimes the best thing we can do for those we care about is to be there for them,” he said. “You’ve made it clear to this boy that you are available to support him. All you can do now is hope that when he truly needs it, he will reach out to take the hand you’ve extended to him.”

Zuko huffed. Iroh’s moral riddles had gotten a lot more coherent as he’d gotten older, but Zuko still wished he would just come out and say what he meant. “So I just have to sit around and wait for something _really_ bad to happen?”

“It might be the only thing to do.”

“That’s stupid,” said Zuko.

Iroh smiled. “Humans are complex creatures, dear nephew,” he said. He leaned across the table to pat Zuko’s hand, then stood up. “Sometimes all we can do is hope that the ones we love will reach out for help when they need it.”

Zuko dropped his gaze to the table and sighed. Waiting wasn’t exactly in his skill repertoire, but if anyone knew the best course of action, it would be Iroh.

“Thank you, Uncle.”

Iroh scooped Zuko’s wrinkled apron off the table as he passed. “I’ll fetch you a clean one,” he said. “I think table three is in need of some assistance.”

Zuko groaned. “I don’t know why I keep doing this for you,” he said, shoving back his chair and standing up.

“Because you love me,” Iroh called over his shoulder.

Zuko rolled his eyes. He glanced once more at the front door, half-wishing that Sokka would come bursting through it again, then sighed and turned away to refocus on his job.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sokka was on his knees scrubbing gunk out from the grout in the floor tiles when Mongke called his name. Sokka raised his head, twisting to look; his boss had actually come out of his office to stand over Sokka, arms crossed, gaze very hard.

“I need to have a word with you,” he said.

Sokka stood up, slowly stretching out his aching back, and dropped the scrubbing brush on the counter. He followed Mongke through the busy kitchen to his office, trying to ignore the matching drumbeats in his heart and head.

Mongke sat down heavily in his creaking wooden chair and waved Sokka closer. Sokka edged up to his desk, tugging awkwardly on one of his apron straps. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it,” Mongke said. He peered up at Sokka with beady black eyes. “You’re a good worker.”

Sokka felt an unfamiliar flush of pride swell in him. “Thank you, sir.”

Mongke picked up a stack of papers and straightened them against his desk. He set them back down. “The books haven’t been looking good recently,” he said. “We’ve been cutting our profit margins closer and closer. I have to let someone go.”

Sokka dropped a hand to rest on the corner of Mongke’s desk. “Sir-”

“I put your last check in your locker,” Mongke said, “as well as your share of the tips. You can collect it all on your way out.”

Sokka stared at him. It was always warm in the office, since it was so close to the kitchen, but now the heat was so cloying Sokka felt like it was sinking into his head and muddying his thoughts. 

“You can’t fire me,” he said, trying desperately to get his brain to process what was happening. “Mongke, you- I need this job.”

“I’m running a business here, kid,” Mongke said. “If something’s not working, you gotta tweak the design.”

“But I _need_ this job,” Sokka said. “Mongke, please, I- I have a sister, I need to support her, I-”

“This ain’t a charity, kid.” Mongke looked distinctly uncomfortable, which was more emotion than Sokka usually saw from him. He straightened a few more papers on his desk, not quite looking at Sokka. “You were a good worker, but-”

“Then fire someone else!” Sokka knew his raised voice could be heard by the rest of the restaurant, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “You- you have like, five cooks! And a bunch of servers! Why am I-”

“Because you’re the most disposable,” Mongke snapped. He blinked, as though catching himself, and then eased back into his seat. “I need my cooks. I need my servers. I don’t need a busboy that mops well.”

Sokka swallowed down the panic rising in his throat. “Mongke-”

“Leave, kid,” Mongke said. He pointed out the door. “Grab your check on the way out.”

Somehow Sokka managed to shed himself of his apron and collect his things from his locker. He could feel the eyes of everyone in the kitchen staring at him as he left. The hot press of their gazes threatened to unbalance him further.

He stepped outside. It was dark out, and cold; it was nearing winter, which meant the first snow was probably only days away. Sokka stood outside the Rough Rhino, lifting his gaze up to look at the sky overhead. There was too much light pollution to see any stars. Even the moon was gone, tucked away behind the same dark clouds that had hidden the sun earlier in the day.

There was an envelope mixed in with his bundled up jacket. Sokka reached for it with a shaking hand, tearing it open, peeking inside. There was his check- he’d gotten paid for the overtime, at least- as well as a bundle of bills. Mongke had given him more than he usually got for his tips, but it wasn’t enough. This wasn’t enough. Sokka had rent to pay at the end of the month, water and electricity bills- he had to get groceries to feed Katara, and she’d worn a hole into her favorite pair of sneakers, so he needed to find some way to replace those-

It wasn’t enough. Sokka didn’t have a job any longer. He didn’t have a secondary job to fall back on, and even if he managed to scramble and find one by the end of the month, he knew it wouldn’t be soon enough to make the money he needed. All of the money his dad had left him and Katara was dried up or locked behind some stupid clause.

It was done. Sokka had failed.

The front door opened behind him. Sokka turned to see Kahchi, one of the cooks, standing there. Kahchi had always been more decent to Sokka than the others had been, and wasn’t trying to hide the pity in his gaze as he looked at Sokka.

“You need to get out of here before Mongke calls the cops on you for loitering,” he said. 

Sokka just stared at him. Kahchi hesitated, then stepped forward. “Take care of yourself, kid,” he said, reaching for Sokka’s hand. Sokka let him take it, dully surprised when he felt him press a piece of paper into his palm. As Kahchi disappeared back into the shop, Sokka looked down at the ten dollar bill he’d slipped him.

Sokka snorted even though there wasn’t anything remotely funny. He was tempted to drop the bill, or storm back in there and throw it back in Kahchi’s face for treating Sokka like some charity case.

Sokka _was_ a charity case, though, and he couldn’t afford to drop it. He tucked it into the envelope and then shoved all the money in his pocket, then turned to wander away.

He still had time before his shift was supposed to be up. Suki was watching Katara at their apartment, but Sokka knew that he couldn’t go back and face either of them, so he let his feet take him blindly through the streets and alleys without direction. He didn’t bother putting on his jacket; his skin prickled with warmth, and he knew if he wore it now he’d overheat or curl up on one of those benches and not get back up. His head felt foggy, and even though he knew he should be trying to think of a plan, to figure out some way to stretch this money out like he always did, Sokka’s thoughts kept circling back to _it’s done, I failed, it’s over_.

He wondered if Suki or Toph would take Katara when they were turned out onto the streets. The idea of being separated from her made him want to gouge his own heart out, but he wasn’t selfish enough to drag her into the mess he’d created. 

If his friends couldn’t take her- and what were the odds of them doing that, Katara wasn’t _their_ responsibility, that wasn’t fair- would Katara be taken to another home? Just thinking about it made Sokka’s stomach roll, made him stumble hard enough that he had to grab onto damp brick and hold himself steady for a moment.

God, he hated the idea of Katara ending up with a bunch of strangers. But maybe that would be for the best? Maybe she would end up somewhere nice, with a family that could buy her new sneakers and feed her more than leftover pasta and cereal, a family that was competent enough to actually _support_ her.

Sokka dug his nails so hard into the brick his fingers stung. It had started misting rain, which at least cooled him off a little bit. A pair of men stumbled past him arm in arm, giggling at nothing, obviously on their way to the next bar in their crawl. Sokka lifted his head to watch them, breathing in the rain, gripping the wall to keep him upright. He hadn’t gotten drunk in a long time. Right now he would welcome that kind of fogginess.

Sokka didn’t know how much time passed before his phone buzzed. He twisted to press his back against the wet wall and dug it out with one hand, still gripping his jacket tight in his other. He glanced at the screen, squinting through blurry vision at the text from Suki- _I need to head out, late night team training sesh- you almost home_?

Sokka tried to respond with one hand, then gave up and dropped his jacket to the ground. He pressed his shoulders back against the brick as he typed. It took several tries, but he finally managed to come up with something that didn’t sound totally crazy- _yea, i’ll be there in ten minutes! u can leave now, just tell katara to lock the door behind u :)_

When he’d sent it, Sokka bent down to pick up his wet jacket. When he rose again his head swam, and he had to take a moment to just stand there and sway and try not to fall over. His nose was congested and every part of his body ached, and he knew that if he’d had anything in his system he would have thrown it up by now.

Sokka turned and started to trace his way home. The rain was coming down harder now. It beat against his bare arms like a tempo, whispering the same thing over and over again- _You failed. It’s over._

Sokka was vaguely surprised when he ran into the front gate to the apartment complex. Suki’s car wasn’t on the street, which meant she’d already left. Sokka fumbled for a few minutes with the key, trying to fit it into the slick lock, dropping it again and again until he finally managed to shove the gate open. He stepped through, leaving it to hang wide open behind him.

Each stair he ascended felt like it was cementing his fate. Muddy thoughts swam in his head, trying to sort themselves into a to-do list- Sokka needed to get all of the money he had together in one place, he needed to figure out exactly how short he was on rent, he needed to go to Hama on his hands and knees and shed every scrap of dignity and beg her to let them stay, and if _that_ didn’t work Sokka needed to figure out what he would need to live on the streets.

Sokka had thought he’d hit rock bottom before, but now he knew that that had been nothing, that _this_ was the actual end of the line for him. As he stood in front of his locked front door, debating what he needed to do first, he felt an odd sense of calm settle over him. It had all been leading up to this, he realized. The past few miserable months, his scrambles to scrape together enough to pay their bills- it had all just been prolonging the inevitable. Sokka was _meant_ to end up like this.

He managed to unlock the front door on the first try. He stepped inside, dropping his wet jacket to the floor. He closed the door behind him and pulled out the envelope and his phone, taking two careful steps to reach the counter and set them down.

“Sokka!”

Sokka turned to see Katara sitting on the couch, already in her pajamas, hair tied up in a ponytail that had Suki’s work written all over it. She was smiling, but when Sokka met her eyes the expression faded.

“Sokka?” she asked, sounding doubtful now.

Sokka went to set his keys on the counter next to his phone, but his hands were slick with rain and he dropped them. He bent down to grab them, then stopped and braced one hand against the floor to steady himself as his vision swam.

Soft footsteps padded towards him. Sokka took a shaky breath and then slowly rose back to his feet, grabbing the counter to support himself.

“Sokka.” Katara’s voice sounded very far away.

“Hey, kitty cat,” Sokka said, trying to imbue some kind of cheerfulness into his voice. “How was your night?”

“It was good.”

“Good,” Sokka said. “Good.” He shoved away from the counter and crossed the room, pausing near the couch. The television was on. Katara was watching a cartoon that Sokka didn’t recognize. Sokka frowned at it, trying fruitlessly to recall the name of the show. 

“Whatcha watching, Katara?” 

“It’s Doc McStuffins.” At some point Katara had come to stand alongside Sokka. Sokka blinked down at her in surprise, wondering when she’d learned to move so fast.

“Oh,” he said.

“Sokka, are you okay?” 

Sokka reached out to grab her shoulder. He knew he was getting rain on her pajamas, but he needed to touch her, needed to remind himself that she was still here with him, that she hadn’t been taken from him yet.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just tired.”

Katara wriggled out from his grip. Sokka let his hand drop, staring at her as she twisted to peer at his face.

“You should eat dinner,” she said.

Sokka shook his head. “I’m just tired,” he said. He needed to go fish out the emergency money he kept in his drawer, needed to figure out exactly how much time they had before Sokka had to decide what to do with Katara. He turned to go to the bedroom, his footsteps heavy, his movements clumsy as he pushed open the door and fell inside. He’d been hot outside in the rain, but now in the warmth of the apartment he felt too cold, and had to repress a shiver that worked its way up his spine. 

Sokka yanked open the drawer to his bedside table. He could hear Katara moving around in the living room but found he didn’t particularly care what she was doing. He rifled through the junk in the drawer before huffing in irritation and pulling it fully off of its runners. He overturned it onto his bed, watching everything spill out onto the sheets. 

He searched clumsily, pushing aside his father’s pocket knife, one of his mother’s old rings that he’d been planning on giving to Katara at some point, a rough leather cord with a shark’s tooth hanging from it. He found the envelope he was searching for and snatched it up, opening it with shaking hands. 

Katara came to stand in the doorway as Sokka rifled through the money- not enough, not nearly enough, he shouldn’t have dipped into his savings to buy Katara those new socks- and watched as he made a noise of irritation and threw the envelope back onto the bed with the rest of the garbage. 

“Sokka.” Katara’s voice was hardly above a whisper. She was clutching something to her ear with both hands, but Sokka couldn’t focus long enough to see what it was. His stomach was tightening, and he felt the familiar press of bile in the back of his throat.

“Move,” he said shortly, pushing past Katara. He stumbled across to the bathroom door, shoving it open. He reached the toilet just in time to fall to his knees in front of it and vomit, muscles tightening painfully as he dry heaved, throat stinging as nothing but bile worked its way back up. 

Someone was crying behind him. Sokka gripped the cold porcelain tightly, squeezing his eyes shut, head hanging into the bowl. Every time he tried to open his eyes the room swam around him, spinning like he was on a carousel. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything except his twisting stomach and stinging throat and the press of hot tears against his eyes. He moaned loudly, praying that his mother or grandmother would hear him and come to help, come to smooth his hair back and shush him and reassure him that everything would be fine. 

Sokka slumped against the toilet, legs sliding across the tiled floor. Someone was behind him but they weren’t helping. Sokka groaned again, pressing his cheek to the toilet seat, holding it tight to avoid sinking completely into the floor and disappearing. He was so fucking tired. Every body part ached, especially his stomach, which tightened every few minutes and threatened to send him back into the toilet bowl. 

Time passed. Sokka didn’t notice. He tried to ground himself to the floor of his bathroom, but his body felt like it was floating, and the only thing he could think was that damned mantra, _it’s over, you failed, it’s done_ , beating into his mind like it was trying to tattoo itself there.

Footsteps pounded behind him, and the presence that had been hovering at his shoulder left. Sokka let out a choked sob, feeling the aloneness settle around him like a weighted blanket. They hadn’t helped, but they’d been there, and now they were gone and Sokka was alone and he didn’t know why his mother hadn’t come to check on him yet-

“Sokka.” It was a new voice, heavier than his mother’s. Sokka felt a hand settle on his shoulder, shaking him slightly and jarring his head. “Sokka, can you hear me?” 

Sokka moaned, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. This wasn’t what he wanted- he wanted to be left alone. Right? 

The voice spoke again but it didn’t seem like it was addressing Sokka, so he ignored it and tried to focus on not throwing up again. Conversation was happening around him, and even if Sokka tried he knew he wouldn’t be able to follow it.

“Sokka.” The voice was very close to his ear now, the hand on his shoulder more insistent as it shook him. “Sokka, look at me.”

Sokka cracked his eyes open and peered up. It was too bright to see very much, but he thought he recognized the dark hair, the puckered red scar, the golden eyes swimming in and out of focus as Sokka stared.

“Zuko?” he croaked.

Zuko huffed out something that might have been a relieved sigh. He turned to look over his shoulder and said, “Katara-”

 _Katara_. Sokka surged upwards, reaching out to grab the front of Zuko’s shirt. Zuko turned his eyes back to him, wide and surprised.

“Someone needs to take Katara,” he said.

“Sokka, what-?” 

“You can’t let CPS take her.” Sokka was only half-aware of what he was saying, but he knew it was important. “You or Suki or Toph or- someone needs to take her, I can’t- she can’t-”

Zuko lifted a hand to press against Sokka’s forehead. His fingers were cool, and Sokka let his eyes slip shut again, basking in the temporary relief.

“Katara,” Zuko said again. “You know Toph, right?” There was a pause, and then he said, “Good. Go call her. Ask if she can get someone to come pick you up, alright? I’ve got him, he’s going to be okay, he’s just sick.”

Sokka shook his head as the padding footsteps left, shaking Zuko’s fingers off. He opened his eyes to look at Zuko again. Sokka couldn’t read the expression on his face, didn’t think he would be able to even if he tried.

“I failed, Zuko,” Sokka said.

Zuko’s hand dropped to cup Sokka’s cheek. Sokka pressed into the touch. “Just hang on, we’re going to get you into bed.”

“I got fired,” Sokka said. “We’re gonna be homeless.”

The fingers curled against Sokka’s cheek. “Don’t be ridiculous, Sokka.”

“I can’t pay rent. Hama said- no more rent breaks.” Another sob slipped past Sokka’s lips. “They’re gonna take Katara from me.”

“No one is taking Katara from you. Sokka-”

“They’re gonna take her, and I’m gonna have to live on the streets. I fucked up, I keep fucking up-”

“You’re sick, Sokka, you’re delirious. When’s the last time you ate?”

Zuko wasn’t getting it. Sokka pulled away from his grip, shoving himself away from the toilet to slump miserably against the bathroom wall. 

“Someone needs to take care of Katara,” he said. 

“ _You’re_ going to take care of Katara, Sokka, just like you always do. You have to let us take care of you first, though.”

Sokka closed his eyes until the bathroom stopped spinning around him. It took several minutes before it felt safe enough to open them again. Zuko was still there, crouched on the tile beside him. Zuko was always there. Sokka wondered how much longer that would last.

“What are you doing here?” Sokka’s voice came out hoarse, his throat worn from the coughing and heaving. 

“Katara called me from your phone.” 

Sokka snorted softly. “I knew I should have changed my password.” 

Zuko’s smile was strained. He looked washed out under the dim fluorescent lights. He eased himself closer to Sokka, coming down on his knees beside him, close enough that Sokka could reach out and touch him if he had the energy to do so.

“Back with us?” Zuko brought a hand up to brush Sokka’s hair out of his face, his fingers barely touching Sokka’s skin. Sokka resisted the urge to press up into his touch and instead stayed still until Zuko dropped his hand again.

“I feel like shit,” Sokka admitted.

“You look like shit.” 

Sokka shifted to try and kick his foot at Zuko. He made it about halfway before giving up. “Jerk,” he muttered, dropping his head against the wall. 

Sokka heard the sound of the front door slamming open and winced reflexively at the renewed ache in his head. Heavy footsteps pounded in the living room. Zuko reached out to touch Sokka’s wrist, squeezing gently before he got to his feet.

“Sokka?” Toph appeared in the bathroom doorway. Her hair was tied up in a bun and she was wearing plaid green pajama pants and a baggy t-shirt. Her cloudy eyes stared at a point on the wall above him. “Where are you?”

“Hell,” Sokka croaked. 

Toph’s shoulders slumped. She gripped the doorframe, a look of abject relief crossing her face. “You dumb fucking idiot,” she said.

A girl Sokka didn’t recognize popped her head over Toph’s shoulder. She stared blankly at Sokka for a moment before shifting her gaze to Zuko. “We can take her back to Toph’s place,” she said.

“Alright,” said Zuko. “I’ll take care of things here.”

“I think I should stay with Sokka,” said Toph.

“Katara needs a familiar face right now,” Zuko said. 

Panic gripped Sokka’s chest. They couldn’t be taking her so quickly, right? “Katara,” he said, trying to shove himself into a sitting position. “Where’s Katara?”

Zuko was back at his side in seconds, kneeling to put a hand on Sokka’s shoulder and gently push him back down. “Toph and Mai are going to take her for the night.”

“I need to see her,” Sokka said, reaching up to clutch desperately at Zuko’s hand. “I need-”

“Sokka,” Zuko said quietly. “I think Katara’s seen enough for tonight.”

Sokka stared at him. Zuko looked apologetic, but not pitying, and after a few moments Sokka let himself sink back against the wall.

Zuko twisted to look at Toph and the other girl. “I’ll call you if I need your help here.”

“You’d better,” said Toph. She wavered in the doorway for a moment, looking torn, before she huffed and turned to stomp away. The other girl went with her, trailing after her like a quiet shadow. 

Sokka sat on the floor and listened miserably as the girl’s voices moved through the apartment, then faded away. He heard the front door close. Another chill wracked his body and he shivered.

“C’mon,” Zuko said. “You need to get into bed. Can you stand?”

“Of course I can stand.” Sokka pressed his hands into the wall and used it as leverage to push himself up. He stood on shaky legs, but the second he tried to take a step black spots danced in his vision. He wavered for a long moment, vision blurred, fighting to stay upright.

When the black receded a bit, he realized that someone was speaking in his ear. “Sokka,” said Zuko’s voice, “can you hear me?”

Sokka swallowed. He nodded. There were arms around him, looped around his shoulders and his waist, supporting most of his weight. He managed to rock back onto his feet and stand by himself, still leaning heavily against Zuko.

“I’ve got you,” Zuko said. “Just walk with me, alright? I’m not going to let you fall.”

Sokka followed Zuko’s voice blindly. They walked together through the doorway, into the living room, into the bedroom, Zuko still holding tight to Sokka and keeping him upright when his feet faltered. 

When they reached the bed Zuko paused. Sokka looked at the mess he’d dumped on the blankets, the discarded drawer lying on the pillow. 

“It’s been a long day,” he managed to say.

Zuko snorted. He made sure Sokka was stable before turning to flip the drawer back over, picking everything up and placing it carefully back in. He moved quickly, only pausing when he picked up the shark tooth’s necklace. He looked at it for a moment before tucking it into the drawer and then picking the whole thing up to set on the floor.

“Here.” Zuko tugged back the blankets. Sokka sat down heavily, too exhausted to do anything but watch as Zuko crouched down to tug Sokka’s wet sneakers off. 

“Why are you doing this?” he asked as Zuko set his shoes aside and straightened back up.

Zuko set a hand on his shoulder. Sokka let him ease him back against the pillows, unable to help the sigh of relief as he sank back into the cool sheets. 

“Because I care about you,” Zuko said.

Tightness squeezed at Sokka’s chest. He curled his knees in closer, shivering as Zuko drew the blanket over him. 

“I need help, Zuko,” he admitted quietly, letting his eyes slip shut. 

Sokka might have been asleep when Zuko responded, might have dreamt the hand on his forehead, the fingers brushing through his hair, gentle like his mother’s had always been.

“I’m here,” Zuko said quietly as Sokka sank into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides*
> 
> Remember that fluff I promised?? The comfort?? I swear it's coming, we're almost there!
> 
> Thank you all for the amazing comments on the last chapter. Again, I'm left speechless every time by the wonderful support you all give me. This chapter was tricky for me to write, so I hope you enjoyed it! <3


	7. someone i just want around

Sokka woke up drenched in sweat and so tangled in his blankets it was a wonder he hadn’t suffocated in them.

It was dark in his room. Sokka shoved back the blankets and sheets, kicking them off, and sat up. His body felt drained, the phantom aches of illness still lingering in his joints, but at least the temperature was reasonable and his head no longer felt like it was about to explode at any second. 

He swung his feet over the side of the bed, testing their stability before he eased himself up. It was too dark to see across the room to Katara’s bed. His head still felt foggy and he couldn’t remember going to bed the night before, but he was too exhausted to worry about that now. He needed to find his phone and check the time, and also what day it was, because he wasn’t too certain about anything at the moment. 

Sokka walked blindly across the room, surprised when he didn’t trip over any of Katara’s toys. He eased the door open and slipped out into the dark living room, shutting it gently behind him. He turned and felt his way across the room, arms outstretched for obstacles. The sharp edge of the coffee table caught on his leg and he hissed in pain.

Shuffling movement near him caught his attention. Sokka froze, half-crouched to grab his smarting leg. He squinted at the couch and felt his heart jump when a dark figure sat up.

“What the fuck,” Sokka said loudly, taking a stumbling step backwards.

The figure moved. “Sokka,” said a raspy voice. Sokka backed up to the wall, reaching behind him for the light switch, casting about for a possible weapon until the lights came on and he recognized who was on his couch.

“Zuko.” Sokka’s shoulders slumped forward. “Jesus Christ, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Zuko rubbed at his good eye. He was curled up under a blanket and had acquired a pillow to make some kind of makeshift bed on Sokka’s couch. 

“Sorry,” he said. 

Sokka frowned. “What are you doing here?” 

“You were sick.”

“Sick?” 

Zuko looked at him strangely. “Do you remember what happened?”

Sokka squinted at him, trying to think back. He remembered going to work, and Mongke calling him into his office- and Mongke _firing_ him, and Sokka coming home and collapsing on the bathroom floor-

“Fuck.” Sokka brought a hand up to scrub his face. “ _Fuck_.” 

“You look better,” said Zuko, getting to his feet. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and grey sweatpants that looked just as sleep-rumpled as the rest of him. His hair was loose and messy, like he’d tied it up neatly and then shifted too much in his sleep for it to stay that way. 

“How long was I out?” Sokka asked. 

“Two days.”

“Two _days_?” 

“You don’t remember waking up before this?”

Sokka didn’t even want to _think_ about what he had said or done while he’d been, apparently, too delirious to even remember being awake. “Where’s Katara?”

“She’s been staying with Suki,” Zuko said. “When I called last night they were playing with makeup.”

“Oh,” Sokka said, relieved. Suki knew what she was doing. “Good.”

Zuko walked across the room to the kitchen. “Come sit down.”

Too tired to argue, Sokka went to sit at the table, watching as Zuko opened the refrigerator and started rifling through it with disorienting familiarity. 

“What time is it?” he asked.

Zuko re-emerged with a Tupperware container of rice. “Two-something in the morning,” he said. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” said Sokka.

Zuko grabbed a bowl from the cupboard. “Too bad. You’re going to eat.”

Sokka watched Zuko scoop some rice into the bowl and pop it into the microwave. “Have you been here this whole time?” 

“Pretty much.” 

“Why?” 

Zuko turned to face him. He looked nearly as exhausted as Sokka felt. “You’ve been running a consistently high fever,” he said. “You haven’t managed to keep down _any_ of the food that I gave you, and you were too out of it to recognize me half the time. I wasn’t about to just leave you here; I almost took you to the hospital.”

“I would have been fine.”

Zuko snorted. The microwave beeped behind him, and he turned to pull the bowl out. He paused long enough to dig a fork out of the drawer, then brought everything over to Sokka and set it in front of him. 

“Eat,” Zuko said, dropping into the chair opposite him.

Sokka picked up his fork and scooped up a small bite of rice. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but he felt weak the way he always did after he got sick, and he knew having something in his system would help. 

Zuko sat quietly while Sokka ate. He still looked exhausted, and his eyes were half-drooping like he wasn’t quite awake. He was watching Sokka, eyes tracking the movement of his fork, and Sokka might have felt a bit more uncomfortable about it if Zuko hadn’t looked so out of it.

Sokka got through a few more bites of rice before he couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “Um, how much did I tell you while I was…” He waved his fork vaguely in the air. 

Zuko blinked, expression coming back into focus. “You told me that you lost your job,” he said. “And that you won’t be able to pay rent.”

Sokka’s stomach tightened. Great. Thanks a lot, sick Sokka. “Yeah,” he said. “So I really can’t afford to lay around doing nothing all day. I need to find another job and talk to my landlord. She said she couldn’t help us out anymore, but-”

“Has making rent been a problem?” 

Sokka pressed his lips together, uncertain of how much to say, how much he’d already said. Zuko sighed. 

“Sokka,” he said. There was a faint shadow under his good eye, the beginning of a dark circle that hadn’t been there before. Sokka wondered if he’d gotten any sleep at all before tonight. “I think we’re past pretending.” 

Sokka set his fork down. He reached up to rub his eyes, trying to work some of the exhaustion out of them. He was tempted to try and think of another lie, but he didn’t think he had the energy for it. 

“We almost got evicted last month,” he said quietly. “I’m behind on a few bills. I was working overtime to try and catch up, but…”

“But instead you overworked yourself to the point of collapse?”

“I got sick,” Sokka said, cheeks warming. “It was just shitty timing.”

“Right,” Zuko said in an odd tone. 

Sokka narrowed his eyes. “What?” 

Zuko took a long breath before pushing through his hesitation. “Katara told me she hasn’t seen you eat an actual meal in days.” 

Sokka stared at him, stunned. “She- that’s not true.”

“Sokka, we’re not going to get anywhere if you can’t be honest with-”

“No,” Sokka said. He was feeling nauseous all over again. “I’m being honest. I- that _can’t_ be true.”

Sokka knew he’d been skimping out on the whole three meals a day shtick for awhile now- he’d been too busy making sure that Katara was getting enough food, and stress had always ruined his appetite. In the days leading up to his tenth grade debate tournament, he’d been unable to stomach anything except his mother’s five-flavor soup, but after the event had passed that problem had sorted itself out quickly. There was no way it had gotten so bad that Katara had noticed.

“I wasn’t even hungry,” Sokka said, gaze wandering vaguely above Zuko’s head.

“You were in survival mode,” Zuko said. His voice was soft, still a little raspy from sleep. “If there’s enough at stake, our bodies can push through even the worst conditions, and we convince ourselves that it’s normal.” 

“And how do you know so much about this?”

“Experience.”

Sokka dropped his gaze back to the bowl of rice.

“I was trying to make sure Katara was eating,” he said. “It’s been-” He bit down hard on his tongue for a moment. But what was the point? Zuko had already seen Sokka at his worst; it wasn’t like Sokka had very much dignity left to preserve.

“Money’s been tight,” he said. He couldn’t look Zuko in the eye. “It’s been difficult to buy everything we need. I was just making sure that Katara had enough.”

“And your solution was to stop eating entirely?”

“I’m not going to eat while my little sister is starving.”

“Katara isn’t going to starve, and neither are you.” Zuko’s voice was sharp, as was his expression as he scowled at Sokka. “Did it not occur to you to _tell_ anyone about this? To let your friends know what was going on?”

“What’s the point of that?”

“We can help you, Sokka! We can-”

“I am not a goddamn charity case, Zuko.” Sokka had to work very hard to keep the volume of his voice down. His exhaustion had faded, leaving him buzzing with nervous energy. He wanted to shout, he wanted to pick up the bowl in front of him and throw it across the room. He wanted to break something. What he didn’t want to have to do was explain himself or his choices and get shit for it. “I’m Katara’s guardian- not Suki, not Toph, not you- which means I have the responsibility of taking care of her. I have been doing it by myself ever since my dad fucked off to another country and got himself killed, and I’m not going to start begging for help now.”

Sokka could feel his heart beating quickly against his chest. His hands were shaking, and he slipped them under the table so Zuko wouldn’t see. He knew it was probably a dick move to snap at the person that had apparently been taking care of him for the past few days, but he couldn’t bring himself to care very much. 

The irritation had faded from Zuko’s expression. He was looking at Sokka now with slightly widened eyes, brow pinched like he was confused by what he was hearing. 

“You’re not a charity case, Sokka,” Zuko said. His voice was quiet, but felt loud in the overwhelming silence. The only other sound was the faint buzz of the fluorescent kitchen light overhead. “You never have been. You have been raising your sister singlehandedly from the age of _nineteen_ , and you have been doing a damn good job of it. You are many things, but you are not a fucking charity case.” 

Sokka dropped his gaze. “But I haven’t,” he said. “I haven’t been doing a good job. I haven’t been spending any time with her, and I can’t even buy her new boots-”

“Don’t you dare.” Zuko’s voice was low, tinted with something a little dangerous. “Don’t you dare beat yourself up for how you’ve been taking care of Katara. You’re wonderful with her.”

“But I’m not-”

“I’ve seen bad parenting, Sokka,” Zuko said. “Katara is happy and healthy. She knows you love her. You are _not_ a bad guardian.”

Sokka’s breath shook. His throat still felt as though it’d been rubbed raw with sandpaper, probably from all the coughing he’d been doing recently. He twisted in his seat to turn away from Zuko, reaching up to rub his eyes, irritated that a few words could make him so visibly emotional. At least he could try and blame it on his illness if he needed to. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry that you’ve had to deal with any of this, I didn’t-”

“Stop it.” Zuko got out of his seat and rounded the table. He crouched down beside Sokka and peered up at him, his expression very serious. “Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“You’ve been stuck here for days because I can’t take care of myself alone.”

“I’ve been here because you’re my friend, Sokka.” Zuko rested his hand on Sokka’s knee, his touch warm and grounding. “You’re allowed to accept a little support sometimes, you know. It’s not gonna kill you.”

Sokka laughed weakly. “I’m not very good at that.”

“Clearly.” Zuko hesitated for a moment, then said, “I know that it might not seem like it, but I understand. Maybe not all of it, but- being left to fend for yourself? I’ve been there. I promise, it is not weak to let the people who care about you help.”

Sokka wiped at his eyes, trying in vain to dry them. He dropped his hand onto Zuko’s, squeezing his fingers tight. 

“Thanks,” he said. He took a shaky breath, then let go. “Alright, not that this isn’t fun, but it’s really early in the morning and I just had the mega-flu or something, so I think I’m tapping out.”

Zuko chuckled as he got to his feet. “Fine,” he said, snagging the half-finished bowl off the table and carrying it over to the sink. “But only because talking about feelings exhausts me. I’ll clean up.”

“We didn’t even talk about _your_ feelings.” Sokka stood up and then paused. “Uh, Zuko?”

“Hm?”

“What you said, about… understanding what I felt?” Zuko set the bowl down and turned to face him. Sokka hesitated before continuing. “I hope you know that you can talk to me about it, too. If you want.”

Zuko smiled a little awkwardly. “I will,” he said. “I promise. Just… not tonight.”

Sokka nodded. “Are you going to stay here?” 

“Where else am I supposed to go?” 

“I don’t know, I thought you might want to go back to your apartment.”

Zuko waved a hand at him. “Too much effort,” he said, turning back to the sink. “You know, it’s super rude of you to try and kick me out, considering I’ve been playing nurse for the past week.”

“It was two days, you drama queen,” Sokka said. “And I wasn’t kicking you out.” He started towards his bedroom, but paused before he reached the door, glancing at the mess of blankets on the couch. 

“Hey,” he said, turning back around and sticking his thumb over his shoulder to point at the bedroom, “you know you can sleep in here, if you want.”

Zuko, who’d been rinsing the bowl off in the sink, fumbled it. Sokka winced when it clattered against the metal basin.

“I mean,” he said loudly as Zuko hurried to turn the faucet off, “in Katara’s bed! There are two. Two beds, I mean.”

“I know,” said Zuko. He snatched up a dish towel that had been left lying out and dried off his hands. His face looked very red under the dim kitchen lights. “I’m, um, fine on the couch. Thank you, though.”

“Okay,” Sokka said. He stood there for another moment, uncertain of what to do, then said, “Night,” and turned away before he could do anything else to humiliate himself. 

His bedroom was dark except for the pale light creeping over the sky outside the window. Sokka walked over to his bed and crawled under the blankets, sinking down into the pillow gratefully. He was exhausted, physically and mentally, and sleep came over him quickly and quietly. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zuko woke up to the warm smell of coffee and the clatter of dishes in the kitchen. He squeezed his eyes shut against the light, flipping over onto his side and pressing his left ear to the pillow so he could hear better. He was still too groggy to care about why he could hear someone else moving around the apartment, until a voice overhead said, “Hey, dude, you alive?” 

Zuko rolled back and squinted up to see Sokka looking down at him over the back of the couch. 

“Did you just call me dude?” Zuko asked, pushing himself up onto one elbow and rubbing his good eye. 

“It felt right at the time.” Sokka had tied his hair up and changed into a fresh hoodie, and except for how exhausted he still looked, seemed completely transformed from the state he’d been in yesterday.

He was holding a cup, which he offered to Zuko. “Coffee?”

Zuko sat up all the way. “Thanks,” he said, taking the warm mug. He sipped at it. “What time is it?” 

“A little after eleven,” Sokka said. He had walked back over to the kitchen and was fiddling with something on the stove. “I hope you didn’t have anything else to do today.”

Zuko stood up and stretched his shoulders back. “No, I cleared my schedule at the firm for the rest of the week. 

“What?”

“It’s fine,” Zuko said. He wandered over to the kitchen with both hands wrapped around the warm mug. “I’ve never taken time off, and I’m ahead on all of my work, anyways. They won’t miss me.” Zuko came to stand next to the Sokka, looking at the stove curiously. “Pancakes?”

“One of the only decent dishes I can make,” said Sokka. He already had a finished stack on a plate next to him, and a small amount of batter left in the bowl. “Go sit down, I’ll make you a plate.”

“This is a nice gesture, Sokka, but you really should be resting still,” Zuko said.

Sokka rolled his eyes. “I’m used to getting up and making breakfast for Katara,” he said, “and it’s boring just sitting around. Now, go.” Sokka flapped the spatula at Zuko. “Shoo, let me be nice to you.”

Zuko laughed and dutifully turned to go sit at the kitchen table. He sipped at his coffee as Sokka stacked a few pancakes on a plate and carried it over to set in front of Zuko. 

“Thank you,” said Zuko, accepting the fork he was handed.

“Welc,” Sokka said. He grinned, blue eyes crinkling, and Zuko felt his chest tighten. It had been easy to forget his feelings for Sokka over the past few days, when Zuko had mainly been focused on ensuring that Sokka didn’t vomit anywhere that wasn’t easy to clean up. Now there was nothing left to distract Zuko, which probably wasn’t a good thing. 

“I texted Suki earlier,” Sokka said, moving back into the kitchen. He picked up the bowl of batter and scraped at it with the spoon, pouring the last of it out onto the pan. “She dropped Katara off at school. I’m going to pick her up later.”

Zuko leaned forward to grab the bottle of syrup that had been left on the table. “Good,” he said, sitting back and pulling the top off. “She misses you.”

Sokka poked at the pancake with the spatula, then flipped it. He turned back to face Zuko, an uncertain expression on his face. 

“She saw me go down, right?” he asked. “That’s not some crazy dream I had?” 

“Yes,” Zuko said, “she did.” Sokka looked disappointed, and Zuko couldn’t help but feel bad for him. He wished Katara hadn’t seen her brother collapse, either, but he could only imagine how Sokka felt about it.

Sokka was quiet as he finished up the pancake. He turned off the stove and pulled out another plate, then walked over to join Zuko at the table with a stack of pancakes and a cup of coffee for himself. 

“I don’t really know what to say to her,” he admitted as he sat down.

“The truth,” Zuko said. “Some of it, at least. I think she noticed a lot more than you think.”

Sokka snorted and uncapped the syrup. “You’re telling me,” he said, overturning the bottle and drenching his pancakes. Zuko bit his tongue against the snarky joke he wanted to make about all the sugar in syrup, too relieved to see Sokka eating to risk commenting on it. It had been worrying enough when he hadn’t been able to get Sokka to eat more than a few bowls of soup over the past few days without Katara also informing him that her brother hadn’t been eating much at all for several weeks. Zuko felt something uncoil in him while Sokka ate. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Sokka took another bite of pancake. “Honestly, I feel fine,” he said around his food. Zuko pulled a face at him and he swallowed before continuing. “I’m a little tired, but I can’t stay in that bed any longer. I’ll lose my sanity.”

“Can’t lose what you don’t have,” said Zuko. 

Sokka crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out, making Zuko laugh. 

“What are you going to do now?” Zuko asked. He wished Sokka would rest a little longer, but he knew better than to hope that he would sit still for very long when there were things to be done.

Sokka picked up his coffee cup and took a few long sips. “God, I missed coffee,” he said, setting the cup down and grabbing his fork again. “I need to go talk to my landlord at some point. I’m going to try and talk to her about giving us a reduced rate until I can save up a little more money.”

“And if she won’t do it?”

Sokka sighed. “I’ll have to start looking for a new place, then. And a new job.” He cut up his pancake moodily, dropping his chin into his free hand. “The next few weeks are gonna suck, aren’t they?”

“Hey,” Zuko said, drawing Sokka’s attention back to him. “You’ve got help, remember? We’ll find something.”

Sokka’s face softened into a smile, one that Zuko was grateful to see again. 

“Are you doing anything later?” he asked.

“No. I can go back to my apartment, though.”

“Actually,” Sokka said, “I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to pick up Katara from school.”

Zuko blinked, surprised by the offer. “Really?”

“I’d like the company. And-” Sokka looked down at his pancakes, poking them with the prongs of his fork. “It would be nice not to be alone when I talk to Katara.” 

Zuko picked up his coffee mug, holding it in both hands. It had cooled off considerably, but was still pleasantly warm.

“Of course I’ll come, Sokka,” he said. “I’d love to see Katara.”

Sokka grinned, looking visibly relieved. He opened his mouth to say something else but was cut off by a sharp knock at the front door, which swung open a second later. 

“Good afternoon, loser,” Toph said, stepping into the room. She was wearing an oversized green flannel over a cropped white shirt and jeans and, judging by her greeting, assumed that she was only addressing Zuko. Mai trailed in behind her, glancing over at Zuko with a dry expression. Her eyes widened when she noticed he wasn’t alone. 

“Nice to see you too, Toph,” Sokka said.

Toph perked up at the sound of his voice. She tucked her cane under her arm and marched around the kitchen counter towards Sokka, eyes narrowing.

“Toph,” Sokka said, sounding nervous as she approached. He leaned away in his seat the best he could, gripping the edge of the table. “Toph, my body is still fragile- ouch!”

Toph had punched him in the shoulder. Zuko winced in sympathy as she pulled her fist back and crossed her arms, glaring down at Sokka. 

“That was some stunt you pulled,” she said. 

“Oh, come on, we don’t have to do this,” said Sokka, rubbing his shoulder with a frown. “I made pancakes. Do you want pancakes?”

He moved to get up. Toph reached out and pushed him back down into his seat. “Sit your ass down while I’m yelling at you,” she said. 

Mai sat down in the empty seat next to Zuko, glancing at him with raised eyebrows. Zuko just shrugged; he didn’t think he’d be able to protect Sokka from Toph’s wrath even if he tried. 

“Do you know how fucking worried everyone has been about you?”

Sokka sighed. “I’m sorry, Toph,” he said. “I didn’t mean to-”

“No.” Toph’s lips twisted downwards. “I don’t think you get it. You have been unconscious for two days, Sokka. You have been so delirious that you barely recognized me when I visited for two days.”

Sokka stared up at Toph. Toph inhaled deeply through her nose, nostrils flaring, then released her breath in a huff. 

“When your sister called me,” Toph said, “she thought you were _dying_ , Sokka. I stayed up the entire night trying to convince her that you were actually going to be okay.” She took a step forward, leaning down to jab a finger at Sokka’s chest. “You have too many people that care about you to _ever_ pull anything like that again. Got it? When you are struggling you need to say something instead of pushing yourself until you fall apart.”

Silence hung between them for several moments, pulled taut like a string. Zuko looked between the two of them and then at Mai, who was doing a poor job of not looking concerned.

“You’re right,” Sokka said finally, his voice surprisingly calm. “I won’t do it again.”

Toph straightened back up, holding herself haughtily, chin raised. “You’d better not.” She maintained her scowl for a few more seconds before setting her cane down against the table. “Come on, pretty boy,” she said, reaching towards Sokka. “You owe me pancakes.”

Sokka’s face cracked into a small grin. “I don’t owe you shit,” he said, standing up and offering his arm to Toph, who grabbed it tight with both hands. 

“I’m going to start charging a babysitting fee,” Toph said. Sokka knocked his shoulder against hers as they started walking towards the kitchen arm in arm, bickering as they went. 

“I’m impressed,” Mai said, drawing Zuko’s attention over to her. He was glad to see her; Toph had stopped by multiple times since Zuko had been here, and although he appreciated that, she hadn’t always been the best company. Zuko didn’t think she was used to having to wait for someone to wake up before yelling at them. “It looks like you actually got some rest last night.”

“Sokka was better,” Zuko said, keeping his voice quiet so they wouldn’t be overheard. “I was able to get some sleep.” 

Mai glanced over at the kitchen. “You know,” she said, “I get the appeal.” Zuko frowned at her, and she continued, “You always did like the guys with emotional baggage.”

Zuko scowled and tried to kick at her ankle under the table. She pulled her leg away with a smirk, and Zuko had to abandon his attempt at retribution when Sokka and Toph approached the table once more.

“Here,” Sokka said, handing a plate of pancakes to Mai across the table as Toph sat down in the last empty seat. “I don’t know if we’ve actually been introduced yet. I’m Sokka.”

“Mai.” She took the plate from him. “Thanks.” 

“Oh, yeah.” Toph stuck her hand out and waggled her fingers. Sokka grabbed the syrup and passed it to her. “Sokka, this is my girlfriend, Mai.”

“We’ve upgraded to girlfriend now?” Sokka asked.

Toph drenched her pancakes in nearly as much syrup as Sokka had. “You missed a lot while you were playing sleeping beauty.” 

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

“Well,” Toph said. “I started listening to this really cool geology podcast.”

Sokka glanced at Zuko, trying in vain to hide his grin. “I can’t believe I missed that important piece of news.” 

Toph jabbed a fork in his direction. “I’ll hit you again.”

“You wouldn’t hit a sick man.”

“I definitely would. You did it to your damn self, anyways.” Toph scooped up a forkful of pancake and shoved it into her mouth.

Sokka shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah,” he said, “about that- thanks for helping out with Katara. Both of you,” he said to Mai, who was poking at her food without eating much of it. 

“It’s fine,” Mai said. “Katara’s a cute kid. My brother is only a little bit younger than she is.” 

Toph snorted. “You think she’s cute now, but you didn’t see her during her biting phase.”

“I thought she had a kicking phase,” Zuko said.

“We’ve had a difficult relationship with emotional expression,” Sokka said. He picked up his coffee cup. “We’re working on it.” 

“Hey Zuko,” Toph said, “remember when Katara beat you up?”

Mai snickered and Sokka snorted into his coffee. Zuko glared at them all. “I’m not feeling very welcome here,” he complained. 

“Aw, poor Zuko,” Toph said, sticking her lower lip out in a pout at him. 

“Lay off him,” said Sokka. Zuko glanced at him appreciatively, and Sokka nodded before saying, “It’s not his fault he can’t take on a six-year-old.”

“Fuck all of you,” Zuko said over the renewed laughter at his expense. He feigned irritation, but couldn’t help but grin as Sokka snickered across the table from him, his expression bright as he smiled at Toph, the finished plate of pancakes in front of him still sticky with syrup.

Things definitely weren’t perfect, but they were better; that’s all Zuko could ask for right now.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sokka looked out the window as they pulled into the elementary school parking lot. He normally walked to pick up Katara, and he almost never got there when school actually ended, so he felt out of place amongst all the minivans and mothers chatting through their rolled down windows with one another. 

Sokka crossed his arms, feeling unusually jittery. He bounced his leg, too full of anxious energy to sit still until he felt a hand touch his knee, stilling it.

“You good?” Zuko asked from the driver’s seat.

Sokka grinned at him. “Never better.” Zuko arched an eyebrow at him, and Sokka let his smile drop.

“No,” he said with a sigh. “I’m not.”

Zuko removed his hand from Sokka’s leg. Sokka tried not to feel too disappointed about it. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“I just-” Sokka glanced out the window. They had a few minutes until school was actually out, but a few kids were already trickling down the front steps. “What if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“Sokka,” Zuko said. “Of course Katara will want to see you.”

“You don’t know that,” Sokka said. “What if I- what if I traumatized her so badly she can’t even look at me?” 

Sokka knew he was being a little dramatic, but he couldn’t help the nerves that were gripping his chest. He’d never been anxious about seeing his sister before, but he’d also never gotten violently ill in front of his sister before. It had been his fault for not taking care of himself; Sokka wouldn’t blame her if she was upset that he’d put her through that. 

“Katara loves you,” Zuko said. “She’s going to be happy to see you.”

Sokka glanced at him. He knew that he should let Zuko go back to his own life, but he couldn’t help but feel selfishly grateful that he was here with him. If Sokka had been left to pick up Katara on his own, he knew that he would have been a mess at this point.

Distantly, he heard the bell ring, and the front doors of the school burst open. Sokka watched as the kids began to pour out, and took a deep breath.

“She’ll be looking for Suki,” he said. “I should go stand out there where she’ll see me.”

“Do you want me to stay here?” Zuko asked.

Sokka hesitated. “If you want to,” he said. “Otherwise, I- I wouldn’t mind if you came.”

Zuko turned the car off and pulled the keys out of the ignition. “Lead the way, then.”

They walked a little ways away from the parking lot, standing on the curb apart from the other parents. Sokka rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, watching the doorway closely for his little sister. Part of him wished he’d stayed in bed longer, because even though he felt better he felt exhausted, but he knew that was just his nerves talking.

Sokka spotted Katara before she saw him. He watched her walk out the front door with Aang, whose bright smile Sokka could see even from a distance. They walked together down the stairs, and then waved at one another as Aang turned to head in the opposite direction in search of Gyatso.

Katara walked across the front lawn, looking around. Sokka held his breath as her eyes caught on Sokka and Zuko standing there. He raised his hand in a wave.

Katara stared at them. Then she was running, sprinting across the grass, darting around other children, plastic backpack bouncing wildly on her shoulders. Sokka let out a small laugh and knelt down on one knee, opening his arms just in time for Katara to throw herself into them.

“Hi, kitty cat.” Katara’s arms were tight around Sokka’s neck, threatening to choke him. Sokka wrapped one arm around her and reached up to cup the back of her head with the other, stroking through her hair. She was trembling, and Sokka was dismayed to realize she was crying. “Katara. Hey, it’s okay, I’m okay.”

Katara gripped the back of Sokka’s hoodie, pressing her face into his shoulder, and sobbed. Sokka felt Zuko’s presence behind them, heard him moving around, but was too focused on his little sister to worry about him. 

“Hey.” Sokka drew back, and Katara lifted her face reluctantly. Her blue eyes were wide and wet as she sniffed, tears running down her cheeks. Sokka shushed her, bringing his hands up to wipe her cheeks. He smiled shakily at her. “What’s all this? Why are we crying?”

“You- you were-” Katara hiccupped. She was still gripping Sokka’s shoulders, fingers curled tight into his hoodie. “You were so- sick- and I- I didn’t know what- what to- to do-” 

Sokka cupped her face in both hands and met her gaze. “I’m okay,” he said. “I was sick, but I got better, and I’m okay now. You did _exactly_ the right thing, you called for help. You did everything you were supposed to do.” 

“I- I thought-” The tears hadn’t stopped falling despite Sokka’s best attempts at wiping them away. “I thought I- I thought I was never gonna- s-see you again.”

Sokka felt all of the air rush out of his lungs. He grappled with his own breath for a moment before wrapping his arms back around Katara and pulling her close, letting her press her face into the crook of his neck and sob. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “I’m sorry I put you through that. It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” He squeezed her tighter, closing his eyes to try and compose himself. “It’s okay, Katara, everything’s okay.”

Katara held on for several minutes, and Sokka stayed crouched where he was, holding her close and murmuring every comforting thought that popped into his head. Finally, Katara’s sniffles began to slow, and her grip on Sokka’s neck loosened enough that he could breathe unobstructed again.

Sokka eased out of the embrace, pulling back so he could look at her again. Her cheeks were still slick with tears, but she looked calmer. “You okay?” he asked. She sniffed and nodded. Sokka brushed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear; she was wearing it loose, and even though Sokka knew Suki would have brushed it out, Katara had somehow acquired several tangles throughout the day. Sokka would have to help her comb through it and braid it later.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he said. “I got sick, and I should have done something about it sooner. You did the right thing, calling Zuko.” Sokka made sure Katara was looking at him, then said very seriously, “I’m not going to leave you, Katara, not as long as I can help it. You’re stuck with your big brother forever. Got it?”

Katara giggled a little, reaching up to rub her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “Yeah.”

Sokka squeezed her shoulder. Katara’s eyes drifted up over his head, and Sokka twisted to follow her gaze. Zuko was standing a few steps back, watching the two of them with his head tilted to the side. When he met Sokka’s gaze he smiled softly and nodded, and Sokka couldn’t help the rush of warmth that went through him.

Sokka turned back to Katara and nudged her with his elbow. Katara looked a bit flushed as she said, “Hi, Zuko.”

“Hi, Katara. You okay?”

Katara nodded a little shyly, poking at the ground with the toe of her sneaker. Sokka stood up, grateful for the chance to stretch his legs. When he offered his hand to Katara, she took it immediately, gripping his fingers tightly. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Sokka said. “I feel like the whole PTA just saw that.” 

“Scared of the soccer moms?” Zuko asked with a grin as they started walking back over to his car.

“Terrified.”

Katara tugged on Sokka’s hand, pulling his attention back to her. “Sokka,” she said, “do I get to go back to the apartment with you?” 

“Course you do, kitty cat,” Sokka said. “Didn’t you have fun at your sleepover with Suki?”

“Yeah,” Katara said. “But I wanna go home.”

Sokka squeezed her hand. “Then that’s what we’ll do.” 

Zuko pulled out the keys to unlock the car. Katara readjusted the strap on her backpack as Zuko pulled open the door to the backseat. “Is Zuko coming home with us?”

Sokka laughed a little. “No, Zuko has his own home,” he said. He squatted in front of Katara and grinned at her. “But maybe if you ask him really nicely, he’ll come with us to get something to eat.”

Katara’s eyes went wide. “What are we gonna get?”

“How does McDonalds sound?”

Katara gasped. She turned to Zuko, who chuckled and said, “I could go for a burger.”

“Let’s go!” Katara let go of Sokka’s hand and jumped into the back seat. Sokka stood up and closed the door behind her, then turned to Zuko. For a few seconds they just looked at each other. Then Zuko said, “That wasn’t so bad.”

Sokka snorted. “It was awful,” he said. “But it’s over.” He shoved his hands in his pockets just to do something with them. “Thank you for coming. I don’t know if I could have done it without you.”

“You could have,” Zuko said. He smiled. “But you’re welcome.” 

Sokka always had a difficult time looking at Zuko’s smile, because it always managed to mess with his head, but he let his gaze linger this time. “Thanks for… well. Everything,” he said. “Seriously, I don’t know how to…” 

“Don’t,” Zuko said. The sun was bright overhead, tinting Zuko in shades of gold. “What are friends for?”

Sokka swallowed. He opened his mouth to say something- he didn’t quite know what- but was interrupted by a sharp tap on the car window. He turned around and opened the passenger door so they could both hear Katara say, “Come _on,_ I’m hungry!” 

Sokka grinned at Zuko, then slid into the car. He sank back into the leather seat as Zuko walked around to get into the driver’s side. Katara was already chatting in the backseat, babbling about what she did with Suki while she was staying with her, what they learned in school that day, what she and Aang did at recess. Zuko listened intently as he turned the car on and pulled out of the lot, and when Katara asked he told her that yes, the car was his, and no, he hadn’t considered painting it pink before but he’d “definitely think about it.” 

Sokka let his head fall back against the seat and smiled. He still had a ton of work he needed to do, and a lot he needed to figure out, but right now, things were okay. 

He was going to let himself appreciate that.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zuko was exhausted by the time he got back to his apartment. He’d spent the rest of the afternoon with Sokka and Katara at McDonalds, and then had dropped them off at their place. Katara had pleaded for him to stay for a movie night, but Sokka had seemed tired, and Zuko was looking forward to being able to shower at his own place again.

His apartment was quiet and still. Zuko toed off his shoes and dropped his jacket onto one of the barstools. He was digging his phone and wallet out of his pocket when he heard a thump in the next room over, and froze.

“Hello?” he called cautiously, tightening his fingers around his phone.

Silence fell for a few seconds. Then the door to Zuko’s office opened and Azula strolled out, flipping casually through one of the spiral notebooks he used for his classes. Zuko huffed out a relieved sigh at the sight of her. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked.

Azula raised her eyebrows at him. “Rude,” she said. “I haven’t seen you in days, and this is the greeting I receive?”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko said. “Am I supposed to be happy that you’ve been squatting in my apartment?” 

“Don’t be so prissy.” Azula closed the notebook and dropped it onto the counter. Zuko glanced at the cover and realized it was for his theatre class, which he hadn’t actually attended in over a week. “If this is how you treat all of your guests, it’s no wonder _my_ apartment is the one people come to.”

Zuko glared and walked past her to the couch in the living room. “What do you want, Azula?” he asked, falling back against the cushions. 

“Well, let’s see.” Azula hopped up onto one of the barstools and crossed her legs primly. “I noticed that you hadn’t been responding to my texts or dropping by to visit, and I, being the good sister that I am, expressed my concern to our mutual friends. Imagine how surprised I was to discover that you had not only taken time off of school and work, but that you have also been playing wet nurse for a boy that shot you down romantically.”

“He did not shoot me down,” Zuko said with a scowl. “He’s got shit going on right now. He needed my help.”

“And it was very kind of you to give it. I’m only concerned that perhaps you are investing a little bit too much into this… relationship.”

“With all due respect,” Zuko said, “you don’t know anything about it, Azula.”

“No, I don’t.” Azula tilted her head back to stare down her nose at him. “You haven’t even attempted to speak to me about it.” 

Zuko held her gaze. Azula readjusted her position on the stool, folding her hands neatly together atop her knee. 

“What do you hope to gain from this situation, Zuko?”

“What are you talking about? I don’t want anything.”

“Mm,” Azula said, wrinkling her nose. “That won’t work on me. Same genes, remember? I can tell when you’re lying.” She leaned forward to look at him closer. “What do you expect will happen? Do you think that if you help him now, he’ll wake up one day and realize that what he’s really missing has been under his nose all along? Are you going to kiss away all of his problems?”

“Shut up, Azula.”

“No.” Azula’s voice was sharp. “Listen- I’m sure that this boy is very nice. I know he has a younger sister he’s taking care of, and it’s very admirable that you want to swoop in and help. But I don’t want you doing this out of the hope of preserving whatever connection there was between you two.”

“Sokka and I are friends,” Zuko snapped. “We’ve both been very explicit about that, and I don’t expect it to change. I’m helping him because I _want_ to. End of discussion.”

Azula regarded him. She seemed to hesitate for a second, which was a strange thing for her to do.

“I know I wasn’t there for you in high school,” she said. Zuko curled his fingers into two tight fists, trying to keep his breathing level. “I know that it was hard for you. But it’s done now. You don’t owe some kind of… cosmic debt to the universe, or whatever silly thing Uncle might say.”

Zuko closed his eyes. He inhaled slowly, held it for a few moments, then released it.

“Azula,” he said carefully. “I know that you’re only here because you care. I appreciate that. But I think it’s best if you leave for right now.”

“Zuko-”

“We’ll discuss this later. I’m tired.”

Azula remained where she was for another moment. Then she huffed, unfolding herself and hopping off the stool. “I’m only trying to help, you know.”

“I know,” said Zuko. He could feel a headache coming on. He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “Everything’s fine, I swear. I’ll talk to you about it later. Alright?” 

“See that you do.” Zuko heard Azula waver for another moment before she turned and strode over to the front door, yanking it open. He anticipated the way she slammed it behind her, and didn’t move to get up and lock it.

The apartment fell silent again. He was on a high enough floor that he couldn’t really hear the traffic on the street below, and he’d been blessed with polite neighbors, so the quiet was always a little stifling. At this point in the night Zuko would have already turned on the television or some music for background noise. He’d never been good at being left alone with his own thoughts. 

Too drained to get up to do any of that, Zuko pulled his knees into to his chest, curling up against the couch cushions. He stared across the room at the blank television set. He half-wished that he’d taken Katara’s offer to stay for a movie night, then quickly dashed that thought. She needed to spend time with her brother. Zuko didn’t want to intrude on them just because his own apartment was a little lonely. 

The anger that had swelled in him at Azula’s words faded away. Zuko wasn’t actually upset with her; Azula’s digs usually came from a place of concern, even if she tended to approach things a little harshly. Zuko was grateful that she cared enough to say anything at all. A few years ago, the idea of Azula caring about what Zuko was doing would have been impossible for him to comprehend. 

After several minutes of silence, Zuko sighed and sat up. He needed to shower. They’d eaten enough that afternoon that he wouldn’t have to make anything for dinner, but he had some work he needed to catch up on. He’d pour himself a glass of wine, go through his emails to figure out what he’d missed, and then he’d turn in early. It was his usual night routine, one he hadn’t deviated from until very recently. 

Zuko stood up, heading towards his bedroom to change out of his clothes and get in the shower. If he scrubbed hard enough, he might be able to dislodge some of the awful thoughts Azula had left him with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I write Zuko and Azula together it ends up SO dramatic because they're both such drama queens in completely different ways- and I love it. 
> 
> I wrote a few different versions of this chapter before settling on this one. I hope it helped to ease the pain from last time a little bit. Thank you for reading <3


End file.
